In the midst of a very serious day at the office yesterday I found something to break the suffocating atmosphere. I did not plan it or anticipate it, but it certainly provided me a memorable moment.
It took place in the middle of the day (during the same hour of the mass demise of the atrium pond fish) when I came home for a reason I cannot recall at the moment. I entered the very warm abode that had remained empty since my early departure to the conference office for a day filled with history-changing decisions. The house was warm and humid- the perfect environment for lower forms of life. But my mind had not grasped such thoughts as I traipsed across the tiny living room of the duplex I call home. I was not prepared at all for what my eyes beheld when I turned the corner into the long hallway separating the dining room from the two bedrooms on the north side of the residence.
My first thought was, "I am sure glad Penny is not here to see this!" Actually that was the second thought that came to mind. The first was, "Aaaaargh! What in the world is that?" If I had to give it a name it would be a prehistoric cockroach on steroids-- with wings, a sort of Roachadactyl. I did not know roaches came in that size, although I recall a similar beast once upon a time in southern Texas. Thus, the Penny reference. Back then, she made a snap decision, on the spot, about the non-existent likelihood of relocating to Texas for me to take a job as Youth Director. I had no answer for her. The Texas roaches are enormous!
Back to the roach from Hades-- I did what any man would do when confronted with a life-threatening situation-- I froze. I contemplated the possibilities. Do I chance a confrontation with the monster? Do I run? Do I call 911? As I considered my options the creature began to make a run for it. I reacted out of instinct and moved to block its mad dash to the back room. It is all a blur now! The next thing I remember hearing was an awful crunch sound. I looked down and saw nothing. My heart paused for a fleeting moment as I looked around the hall for the deranged mutant insect. I saw nothing. I concluded that Roachzilla was hiding under my size 11 Sketchers.
And so it was that I slipped off my shoe so as not to risk the possibility that the roach had one last fight left in him (I could tell "he" was a "he" by his tiny little blue roach army boots). I scurried into the bathroom and unrolled a half pound of TP (tissue paper is the appropriate euphemism). I gently lifted the shoe making sure not to disturb the beast now melded to the sole of my shoe. It was dazed, but I was certain it was only a temporary condition. I quickly suffocated it under a wave of tissue and carried it carefully to deposit it into a twirling watery grave. I watched it enter the one way liquid tunnel of no return. I flushed a second time just to make sure it did swim back up-stream from Commodeland. The duplex was again safe, but Camelot was now dead-- forever!
I am glad I got that off my chest. It was sort of cathartic. I'm sure glad Penny was not here. Hope she never finds out.
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