My mom and I were chatting about something this evening and moved our conversation into her bedroom. She was leaning over her bed doing her mom thing of skimming through her coupons and I was leaning against her bed when I noticed something dark climbing up her wall. I leaned in for a closer look and saw that it was a baby cockroach. Ick. I quickly grabbed a tissue and went in for the kill. Mom was oblivious to my actions. I had my tissue balled up, ready to squish the gross little bug and at that moment---two things happened at once.
I made my move to squish the little roach with the tissue while I started to say, "He's about to die.........." Well, something happened that I DIDN'T plan on. The baby roach moved faster than anticipated (its like I was moving in slow motion and couldn't keep up with him) and the next thing I knew he was running in front of the balled up tissue, onto my hand, over my hand, and then onto the floor where I flung him. And at that point the phrase I had begun turned into more of a, "He's about to dieeEEEEEEEEEEEAUGGHHH!" My mom whipped her head around and had a look of concern running across her face. THEN she informed me ever so seriously that I scared her with my freaked out version of the word "die". It probably didn't help anything that my voice already sounds a little deeper due to this cold I have, so the extra syllables I threw onto the last word sounded more like a meat grinder. Pahhhh!
Scary.
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