The Beetles in My Slippers Don't Bother Me At All

Last night, as Karen and I puttered around in the kitchen, we discovered a roach. I flailed and squeaked, as I am wont to do when confronted by roaches (though not other insects. Idek), and Karen very valiantly squashed it. And then later, I was doing something else in the kitchen, and I saw a roach that was kind of partially squashed running across the floor. When I had finished jumping and yelping, I grabbed a book, wrapped it in a paper towel, and did a thorough smushing job.

And then I went to tell Karen about it! For SOME REASON, she wasn't actually thrilled to hear that either a) the first roach had survived her squashing and escaped the trash bag or b) there were two roaches in the kitchen in one night. She was clearly missing the point. The point about how I was awesome, and didn't run away shrieking. Annnnyway, I was quick to reassure her that, for some reason, there are always two roaches in the house when there's one.

"It's like the Sith," I explained. "There are always two: a master, and an apprentice."

This is why alla y'all wish you could come be my houseguests. I make you sleep in a room with a Barbie morgue, and there might be a pair of roaches at some point, but I will come into your room in the middle of the night and make hilarious geeky references for your amusement.

I'll also drive you to and from an Applebee's on a Saturday night so you can drink mudslides as big as your head. It's possible that Karen actually appreciates that part more.