When it comes to cockroaches, I really am just an out-and-out
coward. Just a few days ago, I thought to myself, "I'm glad a
cockroach has never shown up either in my hair, or in my bed. I
think I can almost handle them elsewhere. But that would
be entirely too much."
Late last night, I found a cockroach clinging to the INSIDE of my
mosquito net, precariously dangling above my sheets.
Despite the fact that I was several hundred times larger than
this insect, and that he had no pincer, stinger, poison, or any
weapon except ugliness, magnified by size-- I was petrified.
My first line of defence is always the flyswatter. When handled
correctly, this lethal weapon dispenses instantaneous death,
provides the preferred distance from me, and even functions as a
bier for the departed. In this case, however, the flyswatter
appeared singularly ineffective. Mosquito nets are hardly a
stable surface for the execution of cockroaches.
I thought quickly. Bleach ought to kill just about anything. I
filled the bottom of a cup with the bleach I had just used to
wash dishes (and a small amount of water in case I spilled it on
myself) and proceeded to hunt my quarry.
I found, however, that I was utterly incapable of the simple
action of knocking the cockroach off the mosquito net into the
cup. The image of him falling on my hand and crawling up me was
too powerful.
I sighed. Maybe if I soaked cotton balls in bleach and then
trapped the cockroach between the cup, the mosquito net, and the
wall...
Sadly, this too failed. Maybe I was too hesitant and let the
cockroach get away. Maybe he finally wised up and smelled the
poisonous fumes intended for his destruction. At any rate, he
scuttered down the mosquito net and behind the bedframe next to
my pillow. Two bleach-soaked white blobs landed, sans cockroach,
on my sheet.
After a perfect frenzy of shaking the mosquito net, rummaging
behind the bed with the flyswatter, wiping bleach off my bed, and
tucking the edges of the net under the mattress, I finally turned
off my light and admitted my cowardice. And my failure. And my
reluctance to go to sleep in that bed.
I really, REALLY hope one doesn't show up in my hair next week.
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