Pestilence, Contamination, and Water Bugs...Oh, My

Funny, a rose by any other name would smell the same...but if you find a cockroach in YOUR house it's called a "water bug"!

Not too long after we moved into the new house, I opened the kitchen cabinet where I keep the kids' cups one morning and, lo and behold, what should be up on the top shelf...a ginormous, disgusting, creep-crawly "water bug"! Holy...total...contamination. Great. Now I'm going to have to bleach everything in the cabinet. You caught the whole "kid's cups" part, right? Water bottles, sippy cups and ALL those little pieces. What the hell? I've NEVER had a "water bug" in my house! I'm completely freakish about cleanliness in the kitchen. How could this have happened? OMG - I want to gut the whole kitchen and build a new one! After a few seconds of repulsive dry heaving, I knew I had to get up there and get the thing. Top shelf, mind you, so I had to get a chair. No one else was up yet, so it was up to me to handle the situation. I quietly dragged a chair over to the counter, yanked off one of my wedge-heeled flip flops, and slowly approached the thing, which was haphazardly perched atop a plastic water bottle. Ew! Didn't like that bottle anyway.

Anyhow, I carefully, timidly, silently came up behind the thing, lifting up my flip flop in my right hand like a sword ready to strike...preparing myself for the disgusting crunch sound of the kill...and so help me God, that thing FLEW off the cup and HIT me in my LIP nearly knocking me and my one flip flop off the chair and onto the floor! Holy, holy, holy complete and total contamination!!! I'M GOING TO HAVE TO BLEACH MY UPPER LIP! Um...for the FIRST TIME!

It flew (Yes...FLEW! They FLY! Gross factor just got multiplied by 10,000.) across the kitchen and landed, of course, on the top of the cabinet on the other side of the island. I grabbed a paper towel and a bottle of 409 and scoured my face, all the while keeping an eye on my "friend" on the other side of the room. Oh, it is SO on! You came into the WRONG house, buddy! After three attempts, nearly spraining my ankle, knocking stuff off the counters, and hobbling around the room with the chair(one flip flop still on and one in hand) I finally caught up with that damn thing and nearly gagged when I squashed it beneath my shoe. Oh *shiver* that is SO gross! (I failed to mention the part about when all the racket woke the kids up and they came downstairs and said, "Mommy, don't kill it. Catch it and put it outside." Oh, go hug a tree you little hippies. This is war...and war is ugly! Grab a PopTart and go find a cartoon or something. Put it outside...geesh...)

As soon as it was over and I reclaimed the kitchen as MY domain, I grabbed the phone book and called the exterminator. "I don't care what it costs...get here now! I HAVE A SITUATION!" I've heard that if you see one bug, there are a hundred. I sat at the kitchen table, waiting for them to start dive bombing me from every direction, seeking revenge for their fallen comrade. I had my flip flop. I was ready.

David the Bug Man, my new best friend, arrived and went all around the house, inside and out, up and down, and assured me this bug was a lone ranger. He also said that most people don't know this, but it is very common for cockroaches, I mean...um..."water bugs", to come into your home at night, scurry around, and leave out the same place they came in before dawn. Oh yeah...and EVERYBODY has them.

So sleep well my friends. Rest peacefully thinking that your house is quiet, clean, and "water bug"-free. But, apparently, no matter how completely OCD you are about cleanliness, cockroaches are up all night and they are probably doing a conga line down your kitchen counter.

Night, night. Don't let the "water bugs" bite.

How Y'alls Guys Doin'?

Northerners listen up. I'm just going to say this one time. People that are born and bred in the south NEVER refer to one lone person as "y'all". "Y'all" is plural. It's not that we mind you mimicking the talk when you are down here visiting. We know. It IS cute and it IS fun to talk this way. But when you refer to one person as "y'all", it's as wrong as Renee Zellweger's accent in "Bridget Jones' Diary" and you ain't foolin' nobody, sugar. It'd be like if one of us headed up north, walked up to you in a deli and said, "How y'alls guys doin'?"

You Might Be A Redneck...

If you've ever ordered a cake in the shape of a pound of bacon for your best friend's 40th birthday...you might be a redneck.

Add this cake to the many reasons why I love living in the South. Not too many folks up North would order up a bacon birthday cake.

No, it wasn't bacon flavored, but I wonder....

Hope It's Not Lost In Translation

This is how they REALLY say them...and they correct me if I say them the "right" way.

God is great. God is good.
Lettuce thank 'em for our food.
By his hands, we are Fred.
Give us, Lord, our daily bread.
Amen.


Now I weigh me down a sweep,
I pray da wormie soul a keep.
And if I die before I wake,
I pray da wormie soul a cake.
Amen.