Burning down the house...or at least the garage

I posted this on my personal blog today, the one that you guys don't have access to just yet (but in about 11 1/2 more months, you'll be golden). Anyway, it's a harmless little anecdote I thought I'd share. You know, to prove that I write every day; it's not just something I make y'all do. You won't necessarily know all my references, but you get the gist.


Not unlike many people I know, I am crazily phobic of cockroaches. That and my hatred for heat make me doubt why I live in Texas for at least five months of each year.

Yesterday, whilst rearranging furniture and setting up my new office, I decided it was time to change the family photo on my desk from Christmas 2001 to Christmas 2008. (We didn't do Christmas until MLK weekend this year, so I guess we will have two Christmas 2008s.) Anyway, it only makes sense as the topography of my family has changed quite a bit in the past seven years: people have died, been born, married in, or exited by way of divorce. Okay, only one of those last ones. Sorry, Kev, you're out of the frame. It's time.

So as I'm making the switch, I realize that Christmas 2001 is a litte stuck, and I have to tug. One corner is glued down to the glass for some reason, and I accidentally ripped Glenna's head off (sorry, Glenna). I don't fret too much, as I have another copy of the picture somewhere. But I go in search for the Goo-Gone, which Chris tells me is in the garage.

I head to the garage.

I open the garage door.

And then I see something shoot across the floor that reminds me of this:


But it is a cockroach. Ralph S. Cockroach. And no amount of exaggerating his size would be inappropriate, and judging by his speed, he had some sort of miniature motorized vehicle under him. Momentarily I wondered if it was a mouse because of his bulk, but the instant replay in my brain informed me that no, it was a roach.

And if you know me well enough, this next part of the story will confirm to you just how much I hate roaches. I abandoned any notion of Goo-Gone, went inside and pulled out Chris's peanut butter (because my Crazy Grandma taught me that it's the next best thing), and scraped Glenna's head off the glass with some Extra Crunchy Jif.