Titania by John Simmons

Another Reason to Love Mondays or The Cockroach Story By Barbara Jo Mattson

So, I came home from work yesterday and made my usual first stop in the bathroom.  However, as I turned on the light and looked at the floor, I screamed.  Yup, I had the auspicious honor of peeing in the company of a big, two inch cockroach. Rather than dealing with the problem right away, I used the toilet - a girl has to do what a girl has to do, afterall.  Besides, the thought of dealing with this intruder was enough to make me have to pee even more, so it seemed best to take care of the most pressing matters first.  I kept a constant eye on the roach. He wasn't moving, and I thought for one, brief, euphoric moment that I may not have to kill him. But, no, I then saw his big long antennae start to move.  Sigh.

While sitting there, I called to Ares - hoping he might take care of the problem.  I have a suspicion that he had already sized up the bug before I got home, because he completely ignored me.  So, I quickly finished up and dragged the poor kitty into the bathroom.  He was having flash-backs to when I treated his earmites, so was protesting going into the bathroom alone with me.  When I put him down, he thought he would escape (still remembering that horrible liquid I forced into his ears).  I stopped him and pointed out the roach.  He looked for a moment, and the roach sensed the presence of a predator, so started to amble off.  The roach was heading behind the sink's cabinet, and I couldn't have him disappearing on me, so I ran to the kitchen and grabbed my meter stick. (I really would have preferred to have the proverbial 10 foot pole.)

After rooting him out with the stick, I ran into my bedroom to get my big boot.  Now, any normal person would have just smacked the roach with the boot.  However, I can't do that - my roach phobia won't allow me to be close enough to be touching whatever I'm squishing him with.  So, I threw the boot at him.  Missed.  Threw it again.  He was getting a bit concerned, and walked himself into a corner.  Damn...I wouldn't be able to get him there.  So, I took the meter stick again and got his ugly ass out of the corner.  I think I had to throw the boot five or six more times before I finally got him.  I threw it one more time for good measure.

Of course, the problem remained of how to get rid of his pancake-like body.  The last time I did this, I had to try twice to get the body on a piece of paper and into the trash - all the while whispering to myself "I am a strong woman.  I am a strong woman.  I am a strong woman."  This time, I was in the bathroom, so I figured that I could just flush him down the toilet.  I got my dust pan and little broom-thing and attempted to get him into the dust pan.  My first attempt flung him a couple feet behind
the dust pan, though (fortunately) he did not touch me (gawd, I can only imagine the level of willies I'd still be feeling if that had
happened...shudder).  I had calmed down a bit by my second attempt, and less-enthusiastically swept him into the pan.

It was just a few short inches to the toilet bowl and this whole thing would be behind me...or so I thought.  I flushed to toilet once.  Did you know that cockroaches float?  In fact they float well enough to defy the power of the flush.  I flushed again.  He was still floating in the bowl. I was about to start panicing.  I'd had enough trouble getting him into the bowl, and now I was going to have to get him out??  I flushed a third time, holding the handle down in hopes of making it flush longer.  Lo and
behold he disappeared into the sewer!  I flushed a fourth time just for good measure.