When Timothy stirred and cried the other night, I got up to put his pacifier back in his mouth and discovered *insert JAWS theme here* that we had an uninvited guest.
Yes, it was a cockroach!!
I was furious. How dare it enter my private chamber!
But I was effectively daunted and leapt back into bed. Timothy cried, but how could I leave the safety of my bed to comfort him, with a sneaky, putrescent insect skittering across my floor?
I sprang to Timothy's bed, patted him for a moment, then jumped back into my own bed as the cockroach approached What was I going to do?
I looked around the bed. There wasn't much within reach I could use to kill my nemesis. I grabbed my Bible study book, put some scratch paper underneath it so it wouldn't get messy, and held it over the floor, waiting. Timothy continued to cry, and just as I was about to give up on the cockroach and return to my waking infant, the black body scuttled into view.
Wham! I smashed the book down onto the floor as hard as I could. Then I stretched out my leg and stomped on it several times for good measure. After half a minute, I crept to Timothy's crib, whisked him up, and brought him into my bed stealthily. Nothing short of a fire would induce me to leave my bed again that night! But my goal had been accomplished:
The cockroach was dead.
That's hilarious! Thanks for making me laugh.
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