I’m not ashamed to say that I have a great fear of cockroaches, especially flying ones. It is something I readily admit to anyone. Hence, our house was filled with moth balls and insecticides.
Somehow or rather, one saw fit to enter into my room today. Just what on earth is it about my room that birds and insects love so much? In my previous home, sparrows and bees LOVE my room. And I’m staying 16 stories high. But, I digress.
Anyway, I ran screaming out of my room for my mum. No use. She only saw fit to arm herself with a huge can of Baygon Insecticide. Ok, let’s give her a bit more credit. She tried spraying the bug with the insecticide but somehow her aiming was off – Way off. It turns out Mummy Darling was afraid of cockroaches as well.
Our only option: Call Dad.
Daddy Dearest could not be contacted. The gods upstairs are definitely playing a prank on me. What’s the use of bringing a cell phone if you can’t be freakin’ contacted?!
In the end, me and my mum waged war with Invader Cockroach by ourselves. we sprayed nearly a whole bottle of insecticide before the cockroach finally surrendered and keeled over in death. Relieved, Mum sent me downstairs to look for my dad.
“Dad!” I yelled, as soon as I spotted him downstairs. Swiftly I dragged him back home. He looked very alarmed and I was not surprised at that. From my gestures, something gigantic has happened.
Imagine his disbelief when I went to my mum’s room (somehow, the cockroach managed to crawl to my mum’s room and died there. Thank God! I will not abide the ghost of a cockroach in MY room) and pointed to the cockroach. Poor Dad… He didn’t know whether to laugh or to be pissed.
“You drag me back to clean up a cockroach?!”
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