justbecozz

I don't know if I mentioned it or not, but there are cockroaches here.

Hoards of them.

And I hate them.

A lot.

We bug bombed our house before we moved in, and before any boxes were moved into the house, I quickly swept/vacuumed/picked up every dead cockroach that was in my home due to the bug bomb (there were a lot, and it freaked me out a little bit).

Then I had Kyle dump boric acid around the perimeter of our house and under cabinets and big appliances to kill any strays that thought they could outsmart the bug bomb.

No joke... on a daily basis I have to sweep up at least 3 dead cockroaches. I've had to since we moved in. And I make sure that every morning I do my roach-walk around the house and find all those that died during the night and make sure that they have a proper burial. If there's anything that I'm a little OCD about, it's getting those cockroaches.

Yesterday I saw 2 that were still alive and had to skoosh them myself.

It's getting out of hand.

Yesterday it got too out of hand.

The boys got up early. About 7am yesterday to be exact. Most mornings they sleep in until 8:30 or 9:00 (I know... they're great kids).

So, my morning was thrown off a little bit.

I changed Porter and Bridger... taking note of two dead roaches in the front room that I would need to vacuum up (two dead roaches that weren't there yesterday when I did my rounds).

I got Porter some cereal and returned to the front room to find Bridger playing on the floor in the corner of the room.

And I saw him chewing.

My mind quickly flashed back to this mornings bug count, and there had been a roach right where Bridger was sitting.

That roach was gone.

And Bridger was chewing.

I ran over picked him up and reached in his mouth... couldn't quite feel anything in there but he started to gag. So I flipped him over on his belly and patted his back trying to get the darn thing out.

He coughed.

He swallowed.

He smiled.

And that was that.

I think it was a cheerio.