Thursday, December 17, 2009

Die, Nazis, Die

I was born and bred in Houston. This means a few things. Number one, I consider air conditioner to be a blessed gift from the Lord on high. Number two, I have perpetually moisturized skin from the constant humidity (seriously, we don't wrinkle here) and number three, I hate me some cockroaches with every fiber of my being.

Being that it is Texas we get 'em big here, easily two inches long. Add another inch for their nasty little antennae. No, they are not the biggest in the world. The Houston Museum of Natural Science has some foreign examples that are far nastier and huger and do crazy things like hiss at you.

However, at 1am when you turn on your kitchen light and a big black giant Texas cockroach flies at your face, you really don't care about what housewives in Malaysia are dealing with. All you know is that you feel an innate bloodlust. And the blood you are lusting after is colorless and can only be achieved by means that will involve a loud yet glorious CRUNCH.

Did you know that cockroaches belong to a suborder of insects called Blattaria which means "to shun the light"? You know Who the Light is? Jesus. There, sister, there's my proof that cockroaches ARE MINIONS OF SATAN.

While some their have fish stories, and you Yankees have your blizzard stories, all us Houstonians have our cockroach stories.

Here's my cocktail party winner: when Eva Rose was about eight months old and crawling - and teething - she appeared out from under the kitchen table with a big black dead cockroach hanging out of her mouth.

I'll give you a moment.

Let's move on even though you may not be ready.

It has been five years since I witnessed this incident and I am still not over it.

(I honestly don't know which was worse, when Eva Rose had cockroach in her mouth or when Ikey had her poop in his mouth. I would call it a tie.)

There are two kinds of cockroaches (okay, I know there are probably, like, millions, but whatevs) that we deal with here in H-town. The big black ones, which are disgusting and hard as hades to kill which makes sense since THEY ARE FROM THE PIT OF HADES. Everyone gets these, especially if you live in an older neighborhood with lots of trees (hello.) They mostly live outside, and tend to come inside more during a drought. They seem to fly solo and you can gleefully murder one and go weeks before you see another.

Then there is the other kind: the Germans.

When I told my friend Holly about German cockroaches the other night at dinner at Tiny Boxwoods she said, "I picture them marching in wearing hardhats with little swastikas on them."


Not everyone gets invaded by the Nazis. Nazis live in dirty homes, like the house that a friend of mine's dad bought in Bellaire that was going to be torn down, so he and three of his buddies (four twenty-something guys = filth untold) lived there, and by the end he was sleeping in a hammock suspended from the walls of his bedroom to keep them from crawling all over him at night. (Another story for ya.)

But if you are a normal person who does not collect pizza boxes and beer spills, the Nazis have to be brought in, often by antiques or garage sale finds. They are smaller, lighter in color, and much, much more militant. They invade.

For two months now, the World War II has been reenacted in my home.

I'll spare you the details but I know exactly from whence they came (aside from hell.) But these Nazis are true to their name. Like Czechoslovakia, the kitchen was the first to fall. Then they took Poland, aka the laundry room.

Our bedroom and bathroom: Denmark and Norway. My closet was France (I wish.)

Holland, my dishwasher, surrendered. As did Belgium, my refrigerator.


(inhale. exhale.)

The first time the Allies launched a defense, The Exterminator said, "How did you get these? Your house is clean." My mind flitted back and forth between tee hee, he just called my house clean, that rarely happens to little does he know. Then he went on to tell me how ubiquitous they are and how one German cockroach egg can produce 35 baby Nazis.

Okay, now why don't cockroaches have fertility problems, huh? How come they aren't popping Clomid or shooting themselves up in the stomach? It's so not right.

He declared my house "infested." (Ever thought about how an infestation is always pejorative? No one gets an infestation of diamonds, or cookies.) He sprayed that time. Still had 'em.

He came back two weeks ago, baited the cabinets, but told me that what I really had to do was pull everything out of my kitchen cabinets so he could get in there really good.

Everything. Out. Of. My kitchen. Cabinets.

In. The middle. Of. December.

Because I have nothing. Else. To do. Right now.

So I did. And today more Allied Forces came. The invoice says "Special Services", I kid you not. He sprayed an aerosol deep into all into the cracks and crevices of my cabinets. An aerosol that oddly smells like lavender colored old lady clothes. So now my house smells like an old lady house, and I have a headache from whatever old lady in lavender toxins that are polluting the air we breathe. But he said, "I should have seen them crawling up all over the counters when I sprayed, but I didn't. So maybe this will be the end of it."

Maybe, just maybe, today is V-E Day.

Oh, for the love of leaving an Eggo out without fear, let it be so.

Die, Nazis, die.

UPDATE: It took nine months to get rid of these demons. Nine months of exterminators coming approximately every two weeks, I was on a first name basis with all of them, and I just refuse to add up how much money we spent. Finally one of them figured out the source of the nest so he could kill them all at last.

You might want to take a seat if you haven't already.



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