The cockroach saga continues…

Last night Grandpa and I spayed my room for cockroaches. I thought the stuff was supposed to kill the things immediately, as the fumes almost killed me, but apparently not.

This morning I was laying in bed, halfway between sleep and wakefulness, when I felt something drop into my hair. I screamed, jumped up, and saw a small dark something crawling slowly through my sheets. I shoved my glasses onto my face, grabbed a shoe, and destroyed Cockroach #2 in my bed.

My first thought was that the roach spray must have aggravated the enemies into directly attacking me in my sleep, but I was empowered my victory over their stealth. Grandpa later informed me that the spray only poisons the devils, and then they crawl out to find a place to die (like in my hair.) Lucky for me the thing was already maimed and easy to squish, on a suicidal mission I was happy to end.

Now the question is… how many more are there? I was surprisingly undisturbed by the incident this morning, but would still prefer to avoid any more encounters. Whatever happens, my war cry is this: Bring it on, roaches, bring it on.

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