Waggin' Trail: Oh. My. GOD.

OK first of all CALVIN DON'T READ THIS POST YOU WILL NEVER SLEEP AGAIN (Cal is my brother in the USA).

I innocently opened a kitchen cupboard this afternoon and about 7 huge cockroaches leaped out, so I got out the can of Mortein and gave the whole kitchen a bit of a spray. I also sprayed a bit in a hole in the laundry wall just for good measure.

Well. First a bunch (like, dozens) of monster cockroaches immediately fled the kitchen, literally coming out of the cupboards in hordes. Oh god oh god oh god

As I squealingly backed out of the room, I could hear them RUSTLING IN THE WALLS. I don't ever, ever want to hear that sound again.

So I braced myself and got out the big spray bombs, sealing up the house and flinging them in like grenades. I chucked two under the house, and ran. HOLY SHIT. I am NOT exaggerating, there were HUNDREDS of them fleeing the house, choking and dying. Just as I was screaming and flailing with a broom on the verandah to defend my bed, young Jack (12) turned up and poked his head in the front door - thank god I could see him through the window. "POISON! GET OUT!" He spotted the carnage of cockroaches on the floor and slammed the door shut just in time.

Just to be clear, we are not talking about pissy little city cockroaches here. These are serious Outback Roaches, upwards of three inches long; most of them would fit exactly across the palm of your hand don't think about it oh god are they in my hair what was that tickling GET IT OFF ME AAAHHHHH

Anyway, Jack and I sat on the verandah, chatting and screaming; he stamped on the escapees with his sneakers while I popped off rounds with a back up spray can. Thank goodness DJ didn't come with him, he would have been catatonic (he squeals at the tiniest insects).

Then we stood at the sliding glass door and watched the writhing dying carpet of roaches inside. Some of them scrabbled helplessly at the glass. We laughed. Then I remembered that I should probably set a good role model example with some kind of "all creatures deserve our respect and cockroaches are actually quite interesting" conversation but what came out was "Ha ha! The poison is dissolving their central nervous systems!", once again reinforcing the fact that I am perhaps not an ideal person to leave children with unsupervised.

A massive thunderstorm is building up so Jack reluctantly went home and I am now hiding in the bus waiting for the cockroaches to die. Then I can get back to sweeping up the rat droppings that form the underlayer of the carpets that I pulled out this morning.