Mommy-Daughter Night

Brian headed off to Huntsville – Janet’s having surgery on her hip and he wanted to be there.

Taylor & I finish up lunch… Callie’s napping and Taylor’s ok to wait. 3:30. We play a little and I offer a trip to Walmart (she needed some things for her Halloween costume and we needed candy). I figured we’d be home about 5 and maybe Callie would be awake. Nope. Taylor’s extremely distraught. We get back inside and start playing. She says she’s hungry so I fix sandwiches and chips and we watch Chicken Little. It’s was a cute little movie and ended just in time for bath time.

Bath’s done, we move to her room to get dressed. She looks over at her bed and there’s a HUGE roach (one of those tree kind) climbing the wall. She freaks. She freaks more when it falls about a foot before catching itself on the wall again. “It’s gonna get on my beeeeedddd!!!!!”  I hate bugs. By the way. For her, I do my best to keep my reaction to myself. Her screaming isn’t helping. I hand her her clothes and tell her to go sit on mommy & daddy’s bed. “I’ll take care of the bug.” I find an empty trash can and go back in her room. It’s gone. Crap. Oh, it’s on her bed. I don’t think I’ll tell her that. It very nicely walked right into the trash can. *Doh* the trash can’s dark colored, I don’t know where he is! I spot him, he’s almost to the bottom, I pick it up. Crap. He has wings. I planned for this but hoped I wouldn’t need it – quickly put something across the top and carried it to the bathroom. Shake the trash can a little to stun him, dump into the toilet. Crap! I missed!  *slam trash can down on top of him, trapping him. From in our room: “What mommy?”  I go in our room, explain what happened. I look for bug spray. Spider killer is all I find. Works for me! Return to the bug. The trash can is between the wall and the toilet, so I move it. I lift it, he runs toward her bath toys. I scream a little and slam the trash can back down. And then have to explain to Taylor, again, that I’m okay. I move the trash can somewhere away from anything of hers. Quick prayer that he doesn’t run toward me, lift the lid, he runs, I spray, he dies from a combination of bug poison and possible drowning in the same. I leave him there with the trash can on top of him. I’m not touching him until I know beyond a shadow of a doubt he’s dead. I walk into our room and inform Taylor, “Bug zero, Mommy one!”

He’s still there as of this morning, by the way. Mostly because I still didn’t feel like touching him, even with a dust pan. Did I mention I hate bugs?

Oh, and I found another one as I walked back in our bathroom after my shower, slightly smaller, and on his back. I prayed that he wasn’t that way because I’d stepped on him prior to getting my towel and heading for the shower. I went to scoop him up… he’s still alive. Taylor’s asleep just outside the door. I refrain from any yelping, manage to get him into the toilet, and despite concerns of waking Taylor, flush him. Why does this happen when Brian’s not around? Why?