I Won’t Offend You By Posting a Picture
So here’s one that’ll kill any dinnertime mood. COCKROACH. BIG. FAT. GET THE HELL OUT OF MY #*$***S$%@ HOUSE COCKROACH.
I HATE HATE HATE these things. They are rude. They are intrusive. They are freaking scary looking. And they have NO PLACE IN MY KITCHEN let alone my life.
So what do I do? My exterminator is one of my favorite people in the world. I’m not kidding. I buy him lavish Christmas gifts. I send his wife cookies and pies. I have him on my top five caller list. But short of having him move in, I can’t possibly call him any more than I already do. Can I? Oh my god it just moved. I swear I sprayed the entire container of Windex on it. How the hell can it move?? HELP!
Today was going so well. I drove carpool. I took a walk. I finished a chunk of work. I folded three loads of laundry. I threw away a lot of junk. I picked up carpool. I played a game with my kids. I didn’t yell at anyone. And I was just about to start making dinner when that STUPID THING CAME INTO MY LIFE. I was going to make yummy veggie burgers with a side of cous cous. You were going to get the recipe. Instead I ran around my house with my husband’s shoe, which is now sitting on top of it right now. I smacked it at least fifty times and then took out the Windex and sprayed it (a little trick I learned from My Big Fat Greek Wedding). If it’s not dead I’m checking into a hotel.
And now the whole day is ruined. Call the whole dinner off. I’m moving to Alaska (do they have roaches in Alaska?) or anywhere where it’s not one thousand degrees in the shade.
Sorry that I’m venting on my blog right now when I should be offering up delicious summertime recipes for all to enjoy.
I’m over food. I’m never cooking again. And if I EVER see this thing in my house again I’m putting it up for sale.