Not for the fainthearted

After 6 years living in Texas and 3 living here, it finally happened.  I saw a legendary flying huge cockroach.  Ick.  Thankfully, I was in a guest house and not my own house when I saw him.  Thankfully it didn’t fly right at me.  But it did fly.  Ick.  And don’t try to reassure me and tell me it’s a water bug.  That is a cucaracha.  Or in French, a cafard. Interestingly enough, cafard is also slang for being depressed.

Back to the bug, I dropped one of my favorite sandals on him, not wanting to get too close.  He just shrugged it off and walked out from under it.  Not having a hiking boot with me to drop on him, or an anvil,  or a rifle/shotgun/flamethrower/Uzi to shoot at him, I smacked him with the aforesaid favorite sandal.  The picture is of him, recently deceased, next to a Q-tip to give you an idea of the size.  Ick.  There are reasons other than mosquitos that I sleep inside a mosquito net.  Ick.