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Everything’s bigger in Texas. Southeast Texas is no exception, and since moving here I have experienced some of the biggest bugs of my life. Locals call them wood roaches, or tree roaches. In other states they’re called water bugs. I don’t care what they are, I want them dead.
Sassy Tot has noticed my disdain towards these giant bugs. Unlike the typical cockroach, which infests your home. These mouse sized roaches live outside but are attracted to the light and come inside when it rains. More often than not, these bugs die within a few days inside. (And of course we spray for preventative measures too) But every now and then a bug sneaks inside, I scream, the toddler screams, and my husband takes his role as bug killer.
The Irony: my late father-in-law was a pest terminator!
Flash forward to this morning. The holidays are over. I think I showered this week, but the makeup smeared under my eyes from church and a nest in the back of my head might suggest otherwise.
During my shower I reflected on how peaceful it was to feel the warm water without the sounds of toddler demands, or the pokes and prods of toddler feet in my spleen or hands in my hair. A mother knows that these moments of peace a few and far between, and usually occur right before a 180 degree flip.
Bingo.
Once out of the shower, I dried quickly and wrapped the towel around me before popping out into the living room to check on the toddler. She could, after all, have had a potty accident or gone on the potty and spilled it or pretty much any other disaster.
Like making it snow in the living room. With bug powder.
Me: Charlotte-Ann, what is this?
Sassy: My feet! (pointing to her feet prints in the twenty by twenty square foot powder coverage of my living room)
Me: I see those are your feet prints. But why are there feet prints all over my floor?
Sassy: A bug Mommy. A big big bug.
Logic, on point. Accuracy, not so much.
During my shower, she had broke into the cupboard under the sink, used the cup inside the bag of diatomaceous earth to dump a pile onto the living room floor, then tracked the powder throughout the entirety of the living room. There was no evidence of a bug, giant cockroach or otherwise, under the pile of powder (nor scurry tracks escaping).