Dear Captain Kitchen Roach
Good evening, you scurrying six-legged bastard.
Now that it is Springtime, I see you have decided to return from your long winter’s vacation. We had a glorious time in your absence, but I see that you have decided to re-rally your troops to continue the war we started last summer. Well, rest assured, you filthy disease magnet, that I shall be more than prepared this year. I shall be gathering my advanced weapons of war in preparation to eradicate your kind from existence. Or least from existence in my kitchen.
I tried to reason with you. We started out with a rocky relationship, to be sure. Oh, I knew you were there, hiding out in my top cabinets, pretending to be invisible and all. But as long as you stayed hidden, you and I managed to live in peaceful coexistence. I thought we had an agreement. But no, you had to go and get all bad-ass on me, didn’t you? Remember when you and your friends only partied late at night? As long as my family and I locked our bedroom doors and resisted all urges for late-night sandwiches, we had an arrangement that worked. Damn you.
But then you had to start peeking your fugly-ass head out at me from behind the cheese grater, didn’t ya? I have begun to see you more and more frequently, and last night, when I flipped on the kitchen light, I saw you and a couple of your criminally delinquent buddies doing the backstroke in an old bowl of cereal that Emily left out. I’m pretty sure I saw you shoot me the one-fingered tentacle as you and buddies scuttled off laughing. Well, you are officially on notice that I am NOT laughing, my friend. My husband is of no help in this ongoing war of ours. When he sees you, he runs to the nearest closet and hides like a girl. So I guess you’re gonna have to deal with me, bub.
I am preparing to rain a horrific death upon you and your kind, the likes of which you have never seen. I promise you, you will not see it coming. Be afraid, be very afraid.
You continue to defy me, and I see that you are gathering your troops, thinking you will have strength in numbers. This is a fatal mistake, and can only lead to huge war casualties that you cannot even imagine.
Oh, I know that the draw of tasty food crumbs in the sink is way more than you can possibly resist. And, yes, I realize I have gotten lazier lately, leaving dirty dishes in there overnight. But, hey, give me break, you filthy bastard, I am a busy mom. My two teenagers are basically useless when it comes to helping me with the dishes. In fact, just between you and me, I think there might be a conspiracy against me. After I go to bed, my girls have ice cream and cookie parties, and then leave the mess in the kitchen for me to discover the next morning. Could it be that this is what is causing you dirty vermin to venture out, with no regard for your own safety?
Well, I’ll have you know, this morning’s incident was the very last straw, and this means WAR, my friend. Oh, yeah, it’s so ON right now. Yep, I ‘m talking about your most brazen move, to date, you rogue scoundrel. I was running late for work again this morning, as usual. Just I was yelling at Emily to get her butt downstairs and start packing her backpack, I hear this blood-curdling shriek.
“Omigod!” I scream, “What just happened?”
“Mom, there’s a roach the size of a small SUV crawling up the living room wall!”
So I come running out in my underwear to grab the dwindling can of Roach spray, left over from last year’s hellish war. (I haven’t had a chance to re-stock, but just you wait.) Anyway, and there you were in the bright light of MORNING, laughing your evildoer laugh and shaking all six of your tentacles at me from the highest point of our two-story ceiling. You knew I was running late, and you knew my can of Death Ray Poison couldn’t reach you all the way up there. I’ll bet you enjoyed 20 whole minutes of our shrieking and running around, with me in my really unattractive underwear, didn’t you? Yeah, I’ll bet. I sprayed as hard as I could, but it just wasn’t powerful enough to reach your clever vantage point. Well played, my friend, well played.
So I had to go to work knowing that you were going to go back to your battle cave, rally your troops, and draw up some complex plans for a counter-attack, probably using my I-Pad, while I’m not there. I’ll be checking the History Button, you stupid disease-y scumbag. You can be sure that I’m coming after you tonight. And I’m bringing an arsenal of fresh Death Ray Poisons.
You can run, but you can’t hide. Muh-ha-hah-ha.