A cockroach tried to kill me tonight.

She (let’s call her Candy) and I first met the previous night when I spotted her flitting across the living room floor. It’s a wooden floor, so flitting didn’t take much effort. She saw me and took cover behind my weight stand.

Killing is low on my list of OK things to do in life. Plus, it’s messy. The first low-impact, natural, environment-friendly method that came to mind was drowning. I once read that dousing a cockroach in water would result in death…the death of the cockroach that is.

Turns out, unexpected dousing incites anger, and Candy ended up chasing a shrieking Sheila across the kitchen and then disappearing. Somehow I managed to sleep.

Fast forward 24 hours. Guests are coming over tomorrow night, and the kitchen is a mess. I feel something land in my hair. Swatting the air (and my hair) madly, I look up and see Candy spinning through air. After that, all I remember is a tumble of curse words and a scratchy creepy sensation spreading over my body. A vengeful cockroach? Surely not.

A cockroach tried to kill me tonight.

Death by dousing, unsuccessful. A powdery delicacy known as boric acid…mission accomplished.

Candy, blanketed in the pretty white powder, let out a death rattle, a metallic screech of pained anger.

I acted in self defense.