OK, so I have returned to a more rational state after my encounter with The Mother of All Cockroaches. After making sure the culprit was really dead, I dragged the corpse out from behind the fridge, secured it in a plastic bag, then disposed of the body in the refuse chute. I'm sure the janitor will see it land in the refuse container - having looked up to see what the dull thuds were as it clanged its way down six floors - and he will shake his head and give a low whistle at the sheer scale of the disgusting beast.
Holger has thoughtfully rung twice to make sure I have calmed down. Poor guy, apparently when I called him my first words were "something terrible just happened" and he immediately assumed something had happened to one of the kids. Every parents worst nightmare and if I'd been a bit more sensible I would never have started off like that and given him such a fright. The darling has promised to look in all the scarey dark nooks and crannies where any more roaches could be hiding when he gets home and to strategically place the traps I bought from the supermarket.
In the meantime I've sprayed outside all around the doors with a Super Nuke 'Em and Kill Everything spray which promises to kill roaches for up to three months. The kids aren't allowed out onto the landing because we're always afraid that Carl will try to climb up onto the balcony railing to peer over the side and...well you can imagine the rest. So for now the only thing apart from roaches at risk from my chemical warfare is the paintwork which has bubbled alarmingly over the last hour. I really hope it doesn't peel because that would be pretty hard to explain to the landlord.
Having worked on ships all of his professional life Holger thinks it's hilarious that I am slightly phobic about roaches, and seems to be quite amused by the whole scenario and not at all phased by me finding one in the very place where we prepare our food. I have become something like the slightly mad relative who you invite over at Christmas to keep everyone entertained with their nutty behaviour.
I've been reduced to entertainment value and have only myself to blame. And one Mother of a roach.
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