Roaches and the end of time

"You really need to write about roaches today" is what a little voice inside my head told me this morning. Since after what happened this morning, I wouldn't be surprised if the Last Days of the earth commenced tomorrow, I figured it might be a good idea to pay heed to that little voice.

You may remember that the last time I had a memorable encounter with a cockroach, I didn't scream or yell, but called the doggies to come take it outside. Although this was a vast improvement on my first encounter here in Georgia, where I, after seeing a gigantic cockroach in our truck, rode home with my feet on the dashboard, it definitely wasn't the laid back, carefree, whatever-it's-just-a-bug-did-you-pick-up-the-mail-today approach my husband, and all southerners with him, takes.
I mean, I was still living in a very much non-southern world, where cockroaches, although possibly inevitable, do not belong inside the house, and are to be eradicated upon sight.

Well, apparently, that too has changed. Next to my growing southern social skills, I can now apparently also claim a southern approach to bugs.

This morning, you see, I saw a cockroach and shrugged. Actually, I did more than that. I told it to get out of my way so I wouldn't accidentally step on it.
I TALKED to a cockroach y'all...that has got to be the sign of the end of time. Or the sign of something at any rate.

Here's what happened. As I'm sure you're delighted to hear, our night time temperatures have been dipping into the mid-60s, while our daytime temperatures have moved comfortably into the low 90s. For all you who feel like you've seen nothing but rain for the past three months: I'm sorry. Anyway, I digress. So although these temperatures mean that humans are very happy, the roaches living in our neighborhood aren't, as heir nights have suddenly gotten incredibly cold. And apparently cockroaches don't like cold. I'm not sure what they do once winter (i.e., temperatures in the low 50s to mid 40s ) really kicks in, whether they migrate, hibernate, or just die, but I do know that in the fall, when nights get colder, cockroaches would like nothing better than to move into your home, with you, thankyouverymuch.

So this morning, as I turned on the light in the garage to start loading up my car, one giant cockroach scurried out from under my bike, toward the door into the house. Even though the cockroach was probably the size of a small hamster, I said absolutely nothing, but merely looked at it, and shrugged. Then when I came out of the house again, the cockroach ran out from behind a set of shelves, right in front of me. After stepping out of its erratic path, I didn't just open my mouth, but I actually put on the voice I reserve for puppies and little kids, and said, "You be careful now Mr. Roach, or I will step on you!"
Yes I did.

And, yes, it gets worse.

When I came out of the house for the last time (I have a lot of stuff I drag back and forth with me, seriously), I saw two cockroaches run across the length of the garage, and disappear underneath the riding lawn mower.
And did I scream? Pull out the Raid? Bring the dogs out to eat them?
No.
I put on my puppy-and-babies-voice and said, "Oh, you've got a friend!"

A friend? Really?!

I have really no explanation for my thinking that things as absolutely revolting as cockroaches have friends, other than the end of time is near. There will be beasts, and angels, and endless floods and earthquakes (oh wait..), and people talking to cockroaches. I'm just saying. And don't say I didn't warn you!