Upstairs, Downstairs

This morning (ok, it was actually afternoon, but I'd only been out of bed for about fifteen minutes), Cory and I got a delightful surprise: A cockroach in the upstairs hallway.

A note about living in the South. Cockroaches are just a part of life. You could have the cleanest, most obsessive-compulsive apartment in the world and still have a roach problem.

Now, we're used to seeing roaches downstairs, but upstairs is a whole new ballgame. Needless to say, I freaked out. We spent fifteen minutes trying to squish him as he ran behind various pieces of furniture in our spare bedroom. Finally, we gave up, after he ran underneath a very heavy and very full bookcase that just wasn't worth moving.

Five minutes later, I noticed Zoe staring at something in the hallway. I'll be damned if it wasn't our little cockroach friend (who actually, wasn't so little). He scurried into the bedroom, where my brave boyfriend squished it with his bare hand.

We were both a little pissed at Zoe for just staring at it. She'll chase a spider halfway around the house, but apparently a cockroach isn't worth the effort.

Apparently, we need some Big Alien Cats to take care of our roach problem instead.