La Cucaracha

Does anybody remember that song that you used to sing in elementary school, La Cucaracha (aka "The Cockroach Song")? I don't know if anybody's ever thought about the realities of dedicating lyrical verse to a quick-moving, 1-2 inch long insect, but when I think about it now, I can't imagine that the writer was exactly sane. The one line that I remember is that the singer says "Te quiero yo" to the cockroach. "Te quiero yo" literally means "I love you". I hope I've made my point.

My first night here, I was visited by one of these little guys as I went to grab my toothbrush. In an odd sort of way, I thought it was cute...in fact, I kind of wanted to consider it my new little bathroom-mate (come on now, I was desperate. This bugger was no replacement for you Sassy girls, but hey). Of course, then he started moving. I nearly jumped out of my skin just watching that. But biologically, cockroaches have something going for them in relation to the human race: they are too big to squash. Yup. As much as I didn't want this little guy in my bathroom, I also gagged at the thought of the "crunch" that would echo across the tiled bathroom if my sandaled foot or paper-towel-covered hand got a hold of him.

What to do? Well of course, logically, I had to escort him outside. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a glass and a piece of thinnish cardstock-like stuff from the trash, and bolted back to the bathroom with my cockroach-catcher. "Little Cuca" was gone. Great. It was obvious that he was going to head straight for my bed so that every time the sheet touched my leg it would actually be him...you know, that instinct that tells us that every "icky" creature that escapes (snakes, ants, mice, etc.) is gonna head straight for our beds at night? Yeah...Cuca belongs in that category too.
Fortunately for me, however, he decided to pop out of his little hiding place before quickly running under the sink, where I didn't dare reach (you know how when you go rock climbing in rattle-snake infested areas they tell you not to reach above your head in case there's a snake there? The same rule applies to reaching underneath sinks in cockroach-infested areas).

So of course the next logical thing for me to do was to make sure that Cuca stayed in the bathroom so I could sleep. I shut the door, and then for extra assurance, I stuffed a towel at the crack at the bottom of the door, you know, in case he was gonna try and slip under there to get to my bed. I slept pretty well that night.

I have since met about 7 or 8 of Cuca's brothers and sisters. 5 have been escorted outside the premises with the ever-handy cockroach catcher, which now has a permanent place in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, 3 or so have escaped without consequence, usually back down the bathtub drain from whence they came. I may be able to leave them alone someday at least...but love for a cockroach? I don't know if I can even really say that I'm trying :)