Until today when it started raining, it has been very dry, here. Which means bugs come into the house looking for water (I suspect the fuckers are also drawn to the air conditioning0. And thanks to living in this swamp, the major bug we get is cockroaches. My favorite. Yay. Can't get enough of fucking cockroaches.
The other day, I noticed the cat chasing something across the floor very intently, and got up to check it out. Unfortunately the Goob had also noticed, and followed along. Sekhmet had cornered a two-inch cockroach.
What does the Goob do? Runs and gets her magnifying glass. Looks at the bug, and says "Mumma, dat a BIG cwiket."
And I, who wanted to shriek and jump up and down and swear, was forced to suck it up and say "That's a cockroach, baby. They're icky."
To which she replied unconvincingly, "Oh. Icky." and tried to pick it up.
Anyway, I killed it without screaming, scaring the kid, or teaching her any new words. (How the fuck did I wind up the grownup? Why am I the one having to be responsible?? This is insane. I'm the last person on earth who should be in charge of anything.)
I will skip the details of the other three we killed that day, except to say "Good kitty." And I hope the Goob doesn't see Sekhmet eating cockroaches and decide to try it herself. The kid's already tried cat food.
Yesterday we were going to take the Goob back to the water park for more fun and games. Until she started the day with a screaming temper tantrum. During the fun, she grabbed my hand and threw herself on the floor. Which led to big doses of painkillers, which led to cranky mum, and the tantrum sealed it anyway; no park. We did kick around the idea of trying again Sunday morning, but it's due to rain the rest of the week. But I've gotten a lot of knitting done on my father-in-law's Christmas sweater. (If my hand will hurt no matter what, might as well knit, right?)
MY luck, now the cockroaches will come inside to avoid the rain.