Ahhh...you know....I am just not really an animal person. I thought I was because I like house cats and funny squirrel videos on YouTube, but really...no. True animal people are like, vegetarians who rescue strays and send money to the World Wildlife Fund, and don't mind if their dog pees on their ottoman. They have key-chains that say funny things about how animals are better than people. I do not fit into that category, in any way, shape or form. I LOVE kitty cats, and have had a pet cat (or 3) since birth. I HATE cat hair on my clothes, though. I will not go anywhere covered in pet fur. If my cat pees on something, then that something is getting thrown away, and the cat will probably have to live outside from then on. I didn't used to be like that, until I had this asshole stray cat that I "rescued" and the goddamn thing pissed all over my entertainment center, coffee table, carpet, kitchen cabinets....and then some. I then realized that: 1. I didn't "rescue" shit, what I did was hold a perfectly happy feral creature hostage in my apartment; and 2. Fuck all that 'animals are better than people' bullshit, because even the creepy-racist-asshole-with-a-5th-grade-education-handyman that worked at the apartment complex didn't piss on my Lazy-Boy when he came over. That was beneath even him. Humans are smart. We got to the top of the food chain, and invented fire and shit. Dogs eat poop. Done.
I feel sorry for people who honestly believe that animals are better companions than people. It makes me wonder, how horribly have life and love beaten them down to the point where the unchallenged, thoughtless affection of a pet is the only relationship they can connect to anymore? "I feed you, you keep coming home, and that equals love" sounds like a cry for help to me, not a reason to make a key-chain.
Before you send a missile to my desk chair, let me say this: people who absolutely have no respect for animals, are sick, dangerous beings who EVERYONE should stay away from. I dated someone when I was a teenager that hated animals. My cats peed on him or on his stuff every time he came over. Dogs barked at him wherever we went. There was something VERY wrong with that boy, and I should have listened to my cats. So yeah. There's a balance here.
I bring all this up because we have a roach problem. Oh, excuse me, we have a "PALMETTO BUG" problem. Me being me, I have done countless minutes of research on such things, and I learned that some people who live in Florida accept them as just part of living here, like mosquitoes and rednecks. Other people say that unless you get your house sprayed once a month, you're fucked. Either way, I am disturbed. I came from this pretty little postcard of a town in the Southern California mountains. We were at too high an altitude for roaches to survive. After 4 years there, I got used to roach-free life. Now I am confronted with these monster bugs that are 4 times the size of the roaches I remember from my 7 year stint living in the ghetto, and these fuckers FLY. I remember having a roach problem, and it was horrifying. We had the apartment sprayed every TWO WEEKS and the bastards STILL invaded my dishwasher! When I finally saved enough to move out, we unpacked our things from the parking lot, just to make sure we didn't bring any with us (and we were successful). So now we move into this huge, gorgeous house and we have bugs. GREAT. I will say that we don't have NEARLY as many as your typical roach infestation brings, but seriously, 3 a week is way too many for me.
Husband and the in-laws are all like, "Oh sweet spirit, you have just as much right to live as we do, I shall pick you up with my bare hands and gently place you on a bed of clovers outside to continue your existence in peace. Farewell, creature of the night!" and I'm over here with the kids shivering in disgust. So when I found one in the FUCKING SILVERWARE DRAWER, I hit the roof. Because washing everything before I use it is totally what I wanna do. The in-laws were already coming over in a couple days, so I decided I'd ask about what we could do about this problem when they got here. It's their house, so anything we do has to get their approval first.
I never even got to bring up our issue. Or rather, I could have but realized it would not go as I wished so I shut my mouth for the time being. Over the course of the next few hours, my in-laws made multiple comments about how insects are beautiful creatures and blah blah blah....they even went on about some 4 inch long, local spider species that is beautiful and shit, and weaves 6 foot webs across doorways (but doesn't bite because their mouth is too small? wtf.) and how this spider is amazing....blah. *Puke* So plan B went into effect. Husband and I decided to clean the fuck out of the kitchen and wherever else necessary, and then seal all the cracks and crevices in the cabinetry and in the flooring. We both have experience with this approach working, so hopefully even these Floridian super bugs will get the hint.
Husband thinks it's funny. We were all in the garage recently, and one
of the super bugs appeared while Husband was painting a lawn chair. We
all noticed the bug, but instead of his usual catch-and-release trick,
Husband painted the top of it. No, yeah, you heard me. He painted the
I dropped my Mom off at the airport this afternoon. I tried to make it as nonchalant as possible, so we both didn't get all squishy and sad. I hate to see her cry, it's worse than seeing my kids cry, for some reason. It went well. She has been missing my brother and her cat, so she did have something to look forward to. It'll take me years to process this visit and our experiences in these recent few years, so I won't even try right now. I've said enough on that subject for now, I think. I am happy to have my bed back, though. And our routine is back to normal. That feels really good :) On to the next thing! Oh wait....Grandma is going to stay here ON OUR ANNIVERSARY WEEKEND. How could I forget about her invitation to herself to stay at our house on our FIRST ANNIVERSARY????????? How silly of me. I can't wait to sleep on the couch away from my husband on our first anniversary night. That'll be rad.
Are we there yet?