SEVEN of the M-F's, to be exact.
So, Friday night I had put Captain Crazy to bed, washed the dishes, and watched my show. At 9:00 I had finally settled into my chair with my knitting, when a flutter of movement caught my eye. A dragonfly-sized thing was fluttering across the living room, with a clickety-buzzing sound to it. I thought, "WTF is that?"
Then it landed on the TV table. It was a flying roach! Oh, s***! !! I frantically searched for something to smack it with. My husband's flip-flops were under the couch, so I bent down to grab one. When I straightened up, where one roach had been, there were suddenly 3! They fluttered at each other, flexing their wings as they milled about in the TV glow.
I dropped the flip-flop and ran for the kitchen, where the bug spray was. But the bug spray was gone; there'd been an ant incursion several months earlier. The first spray that met my urgent, fumbling hand was a bottle of Febreeze pet odor eliminator. Better than nothing.
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"Lonely is as lonely does.
Lonely is an eyesore."