The "Date": A Thrilling Night

No, I don't mean a romantic kind of date, I mean the fruit. I'm definitely WAY too young for that kind of date. Now, you're probably thinking, "What's so thrilling about a date?". Read on and you'll see...

(It certainly has been an incredibly long time since I last posted, because I've been really busy with school via online learning. So here's a post to make it up to you, dear reader! Back to the story...)

I was just about to sit down, when I noticed a brown, oval-shaped object on the carpet. At first glance, it closely resembled a not-so wrinkly date, but upon further inspection, it had antennae and exactly six legs (yes, I was close enough to count how many). What other insect would have antennae, six legs, and an ellipsoidal body, if not a cockroach? Let me have you know that I am absolutely terrified of cockroaches, so I'll have you guess what I did next. Don't worry, I'll wait.

Do you have your answer? Alright then.

If you answered 'screamed so loudly, my ears popped and then ran away', congratulations! Because that's exactly what happened. My dad, who was napping peacefully, woke up, alarmed by my scream. "Woah, woah, what is it? Is there a bomb? Is there a fire? A hand grenade?", he yelled, obviously startled (mind you, he was still half-asleep, and his hair was quite a mess; he looked hilarious, but I didn't dare tell him at the time). I pointed to the cockroach, who'd scurried away when my dad joined in with the screaming. Almost sitting on a cockroach was one thing, but a cockroach scurrying away to God-knows-where is horrifyingly terrific.

I ran further away, to the dining room, while my mom (who had just come out of the shower, but no worries, she was wearing clothes) came downstairs. "What're you doing, jumping around like you're trying to mimic an aborigines tribal dance?", she asked me. I hate to admit it, but I was doing just that. The fact that the cockroach crawled away meant that it could be anywhere in the house, which terrified me, mostly because it could crawl up my leg and scurry all over me. I kept looking at the ceiling too, since it could fall on me if it didn't crawl on me. Worst of all, it could fly at me from anywhere at all. I was probably being paranoid, but I didn't care.

Meanwhile, my mom beckoned me upstairs. My dad had a rolled-up magazine in hand, ready to smack the little beast when he saw it. When asked how big it was, I said,

"It's like a really HUGE date, but without the wrinkles."

"That's big. And you said it went under the couch?"

"That's right! But it could be anywhere in the house..."

"Let's just hope it stayed in the living room area."

"Hopefully."

Thank God, our hope came true. After a while, my dad saw it crawling near the sliding door, trying to escape. Now armed with both bug spray and a rolled-up magazine, the ultimate bug-defeating weapons of doom, he smacked it, then sprayed it, and finally smacking it one more time for good measure. The poor bug was gently covered in tissue as to not smash it any further, placed in a plastic bag coffin, and buried in the trash.

We had a good laugh about the incident afterwards, and my dad said that I had over exaggerated about the size of the cockroach. "It's not THAT huge! It didn't even look like a date," he said.

Rest in peace, dear cockroach. I’m sure you’ve been sent to the highest level of heaven!

XOXO,

Aedlycia