The Ramblings of a Mad Woman

Fact 1. I am deathly afraid of cockroaches (and I mean deathly as is running, screaming, crying, doing myself and anyone or anything else an injury that gets in my way as I get out of the way of one) Seriously people – I am so scared of these things that typing the word “cockroach” gives me the shivers and I can’t even touch the picture of them on the side of the Moretein can.

Fact 2. I was probably not in a good place to deal with such a creature when I got home by myself to the dark, empty house on Friday after Isaac’s birthday dinner with a couple of different bags over my shoulders, a camera, a pregnant belly and nothing but sandals on my feet.

So in the back of my mind quite often when I come home by myself is “I really hope there’s not a cockroach tonight.” I was literally thinking this as I walked up the stairs to find one of the biggest ones I’ve ever seen sitting outside my door. The rest of the scene as follows:

1. I stand in the hallway for about 5 minutes going “Emma this is ridiculous, you’re about to be a mother just pick up a shoe and kill the damn thing.”

2. It crawls under the door, I start to waver in my resolve to deal with this, drop all my bags, camera etc, edge over to the door, open it and try and figure out where it’s gone.
3. Edge inside the door and see it on the floor in the kitchen.
4. Go back out the door to where I’ve dropped my stuff to get my work shoe.
5. Go back inside to find that I’ve lost visual contact.
6. Waver further in my resolve to deal with this.
7. Stand in the doorway and think to myself, “Go the bedroom, close the door and cower under the covers until Steve gets home, but no that won’t work, what if it comes in here and crawls on the bed – I’ll be trapped!” As I’m thinking this is crawls along the wall right at my level and scares the (insert whatever word you like) out of me.
8. Resolve totally gone. Run, screaming and crying into the bedroom and jump on the bed. Heart rate dangerously high, all rational thought gone, ring Steve who’s at work. Conversation goes like this: (note: my tone is hysterical and I’m crying)
E: Come home right now – there’s a cockroach!
S: I can’t I’m at work.
E: I don’t care. You HAVE to come now!
S: Em this is silly, I can’t come home for a cockroach – you can deal with this.
E: NO I CAN’T. DON’T SAY THAT. I CAN’T DO IT. GET HOME NOW!!
S: (after thorough evaluation as to why he married me I’m sure) I have to do something first I’ll be there in 10 minutes.

Hang up the phone and remain standing on the bed crying.

9. Scream like a mad woman as I see it run past my bedroom door into the bathroom just as Steve arrives on the back deck asking to be let in as he doesn’t have a key. Converation as follows:

S: Em let me in.
E: I can’t it just ran past the door!
S: Well I can’t get in – what can I do from out here? – you have to let me in.
E: I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.

Eventually run crazily to the door let him in and jump on a dining chair, point in the general vicinity of where I last saw it and continue to sob inconsolably. He looks for it eventually finds and kills it and puts up with me being permanently attached to him for the next 48 hours. I’m still not over it. Prayer is needed.

My stuff, after Steve retrieved it from where I dropped it.

I had intent to go after it with this shoe but the execution of my plan proved a little elusive, it ended up abondoned on the dressing table