Last night Sara and I suffered what can only be described as the worst thing that can happen to a human being. You’re probably thinking murder. Or rape. Or some form of torture. WRONG. I submit to you something even worse:
A COCKROACH IN MY BED!
There isn’t a font size large enough to communicate the complete devastation of this occurrence. We are still in shock, trying to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives. I mean we’re clean people! We wash. We launder our clothing and sheets weekly. We don’t eat in bed dear god we don’t eat in bed why?? WHY?!
I can still feel it on my leg, shocking me into full adrenaline soaked alertness. Leaping out of bed and screaming like Jack Bauer and hammering with a running shoe. Hammering until there was nothing but goo on the floor and tears on my pajamas.
But there is no running shoe that can smash away the nightmares that will haunt our dreams for the rest of our lives.
(Or at least until next Tuesday when we forget all about this.)
