I Am Woman....Hear Me ROAR

You may, or may not, recall my little rant a few weeks ago on how much I hate bugs. Not just hate, actually. Loathe. Despise. And fear.

I spent the week of Thanksgiving in Fayetteville, NC with Tyler. It was so nice to have time with him...and in a suite too. Ahhhh.

When I came back to my little apartment in South Carolina, I was greeted by a cockroach at the back door (which is really just the door to our tiny patio...I just call it the back door). Lying on its back. "At least it's dead," I thought. As if that could be any comfort.

I grabbed the dustpan from my broom to scoop the bug up and throw him outside, but as I got closer and saw his ugly body, I started shaking. My heart began pounding. And like the true wimp that I am...I left him there and went to my room to unpack.

Whenever I make it home from a trip, I make sure to call and let Tyler know I'm safe. So I did. And I told him about the cockroach. And he told me to stop being a wimp and get rid of it. So with Tyler on the phone, I went back out to the living room and grabbed the dustpan. As I got closer to the bug, I noticed it looked further away from the door than before.

"Tyler, I think the bug moved. I swear it did."

"Maybe it's not dead," he says. Great. "Just be ready to smash it."

So I begin prepping myself. And as I inch closer....the bug moves. And I scream. Loudly. Into Tyler's ear. I also jump back about a foot and do a little dance where I basically hop from one foot to the other and shake myself.

It's alive. And trying to move. But it has a broken leg or something. It can't really get anywhere. Tyler continues to encourage me to smash it. He tells me that this is a good time because it can't run fast with a broken leg.

Since I really don't want to get anywhere near that living, breathing, disgusting creature...I begin coming up with unique solutions for my situation. Such as the following:

*moving to a land without bugs

*throwing a variety of household items at it until it eventually dies...hopefully...

*using a book or box to smash it (Tyler told me he did not want bug guts on our books)

*trying the bug spray approach again...and hoping for better results

*calling someone to come over and save me

After Tyler vetoed all of my brilliant ideas, I began to cry. I mean REALLY cry. Tears, shuddering sobs, wailing....it was bad. And I couldn't stop. I tried to be grown up. I tried to be mature. I just kept crying. I couldn't think of the bug or go near it without fresh tears. I think Tyler was ready to divorce me. Okay...not really...but I could tell he wanted to shake me. He kept telling me to grow up.

Then I finally decided that if I had to smash the thing (and Tyler kept telling me I had to) I would use his huge work boots to do it. It made me feel safer. Don't question why.

I put the boots on. And Tyler told me I couldn't take them off until the bug was dead. I went to the living room. I looked at the bug. I cried. I told myself I was bigger, and didn't have a broken leg. I walked closer. I cried some more. My legs shook. I only looked at the cockroach out of the corner of my eye as I inched closer. I took a deep breath. I counted.

"1...2....okay, I can do this. It's okay. 1....2....oh gosh, he's so ugly! 1...2...*sob* 1...2...THREE!" I hopped on the bug, squishing him with the boot, and then jumped away. Tyler told me to go back and smash him again...just in case.

"1...2...maybe he's dead. 1....2....I can do this, right? 1...2...okay...okay...three!" And there are bug guts everywhere. He's obviously dead. I'm still scared of him. It took a few more minutes before I would go back to him with the dust pan to scoop him up.

Then, of course, he fell apart all over the carpet when I tried to scoop him. Gross.

But here's the point. Let's ignore that I'm a wimp. That I cried like I was going to die when I thought of going near the bug. Let's also ignore how many times I said "1,2" before getting to three. And ignore that even after the bug was dead I was scared. Let's just revel in the triumph...

I KILLED A COCKROACH!

P.S. After every thing was over, my hearbeat was returning to normal and I could walk without collapsing or even having my legs shake...Tyler told me we are getting me hypnotized so that I'm no longer so ridiculously scared of a two inch bug that can't even bite me. Good thing my dad is trained.