I speak for all three of us – myself, Luna and Morcilla – when I say that this morning’s exploits were nothing short of heroic. Leaving Loki out of this because, well, he’s a big lazy galoot and chose not to get involved. It all started when I sat up in bed and saw both girls staring intently at the little bookcases that are under the bedroom window. And I just knew it had to be my worst nightmare, something I always dread in summer.
Of course I am speaking of Periplaneta Americana, AKA the massive cockroaches that arrived in Spain on the ships travelling back here from the Americas. The largest of the cockroach family, these muthafuckas also FLY. Yes they do. Arrrrgh.
In all of my years here in Sevilla, in the various casa azahars, sightings have been limited to maybe once or twice a year and always in summer (they “come out” more when it’s hot… shudder). Until now I thought my latest casa az was somehow magically protected from these creepy crawly horrors. Alas, it is not. But I suppose I’ve been lucky as it’s been over two years without having seen one.
Anyhow, back to this morning. The girls were not budging. They sat with their bodies rigid, eyes fixed on the bookcase, ready to pounce, and all I could think was… PLEASE DON’T LET IT RUN UNDER THE BED (this actually happened once at the previous casa az, resulting in the disassembly of the bed in the wee hours). I was too stricken with terror to move the bookcases, mere inches from the end of the bed. It was a stalemate situation.
So of course I immediately went into denial, hoping against hope that, you know, maybe it wasn’t a humoungous hideous insect lurking under the furniture. I quickly got dressed and went to make coffee, but not before placing a sandal on top of the bookcase just in case (because, really, I knew). And yep, as I came out of the kitchen I saw the disgusting creature scuttle under my laundry basket with the girls hot on its trail.
There was nothing for it – I had to act now or in all likelyhood end up having to take my bed apart. I grabbed the sandal, moved the basket, AND THERE IT WAS. Action was swift – there was no time to think. A couple of whacks with the sandal, the fresh corpse picked up with a handful and paper towel (eewwww!!!) and flushed (about 5 times just in case!) followed by a quick tidy up. All accomplished totally on adrenaline. It was only then that the post-traumatic heebie-jeebies set in and I’ve been jumpy as hell ever since. Hopefully this will pass soon and it will be – at least – another two years before this hell happens again.
I’m so grateful for the tip off from the girls this morning because, as you can imagine, being surprised by one of these fuckers is even worse than when warned and having time to prepare a plan of attack (which is bad enough). And Loki? He came into the bedroom at one point, had a look at the situation, and decided he’d rather go lie down somewhere. And now I’m going to go wash all my floors…