Are those protective instincts hitting me already?

This whole thing felt SO gladiatorial, so important, so man-vs-beast.

I think it's because it all happened in the nursery and that room is protected under the Mama Josie Act of 2014.


Here is my account of the incident as near as I can recall:

1.It's the tiny, quiet hours of the morning and I'm getting ready for work.

(No, I don't have to be fully awake to get ready for work)

2.I walk into the baby's room to get my clothes together.

(By the way, I have OFFICIALLY put a crib in there and signed all space over to the kid. However, I'm now using the closet and will continue to do so until I HAVE to give in and start stacking clothes in the oven or something)


3.There is a monster-dragon-wolf-beast in the upper left corner of the room, when I walk in.




4. Ok it was a roach.

(still AAAAAAH!!!)


5. But it was a reeeally BIG, country roach. This thing would wreck the city like Godzilla and they would never let it in.

(So, of course, they didn't. They sent it to the my house.)


6. I go arm myself with a broom and a lot of attitude.

There's no way that thing is gonna trespass in MY baby's room!


7. The broom handle looks very puny next to the roach and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna miss and it's going to grab me and drag me back to it's lair.

8. I hang a sneaker from the end of the broom to modify my weapon of attack.

(SO much better, right?)


9. I'm barely across the room when it takes flight like a Pterodactyl.


(So far Bug:1 Josie:0)


10. it scurries into my closet

11. Shoes fly everywhere.

(Can't be sure if I'm throwing them out of the way or if it is.)

12. It finally cozies down in the toe of my favorite, yellow, high heels.

13. I can see it's eyes blinking at me from the darkness, like The Nothing from The Neverending Story and I know that I will never be able to put on a pair of shoes again without beating each one against the wall with all the force a tiny woman can muster.

14. I carry it to the bathroom and dump it into the toilet, wondering if the flush-suction will be enough to pull such a monstrous beast under.

(Carry: Verb meaning to make a panicked run with arms extended as far away from the body as they will go, all while emitting a high pitched "EEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeee" sound.)


15. For a moment, I was afraid it was the John McClane of beasts and that I was merely upsetting and inconveniencing it.

However, it DID finally get flushed.

(Not without putting up a struggle.)


16. The thing is gone...for now.  

(Cue To Be Continued Music *DUM dum DUUUUUUUMMMMM!!!!)


By the way, this whole thing felt JUST as dramatic as the rat in the nursery scene from Lady and the Tramp.

Just sayin.