And then I forgot what I was going to say

I was just opening up this here blogging window to write something about how I just got back from eating my way around southeastern Wisconsin to find that I actually LOST a couple of pounds when something flew over to our living room lamp. James jumped up off the couch thinking it was a bee. Or a wasp.

I sat over here thinking that it looked more like a moth when it landed in the small reading lamp, which we currently have upturned to dimly light the room when the occasion warrants. It seemed unable to fly itself out of that little lamp cup, so James got some cellophane, and we sealed it in and took a look.

It wasn’t a bee. And it wasn’t a moth. It kind of had that cockroach look about it.

So we turned to our old pal the Internet, and found lots and lots of icky pictures of cockroach bugs. Yes, they can fly, and yes, we’ve got ourselves a roach preserved until it expires in our living room reading lamp. So tomorrow, we go for traps or food bait and deep clean the kitchen.

At least the type of flying cockroach caught in the cling wrap appears to be the American cockroach, which doesn’t usually infest, but rather comes indoors due to the weather outside. Sort of like the crickets, I guess.

But gross. I don’t like bugs. Especially not the icky ones that are large and crazy.


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