By the next day the chicken had flown the coop. I had had my morning coffee, my morning Skype session and a piece of toast, and was in the bathroom bent over the sink brushing my teeth when out of nowhere a cockroach came charging over the counter headed straight for my face. I probably screamed and definitely lost temporary control of all motor skills as I flung my toothbrush and almost choked on the mouthfull of toothpaste I suddenly didn’t know what to do with. The cockroach was blocking my path. Finally it kept going and I managed to spit but not rince, and then I just sort of stood there, astonished, watching it make itself at home. It found a tiny ant and dined. Then it crawled up on top of a roll of toilet paper that I hadn’t yet put on the roller and proceeded to bathe. It was snubbing me. I was being kicked out of my own bathroom by a bug. It was a blatant display of power in broad daylight. I was 67 inches against its two and I was paralyzed. What if it jumps on me? Can it fly? Is it true that if you squash them, you can leave behind hundreds of undetectable little cockroach eggs? What am I to do? Then, still sitting on the toilet paper roll on the edge of the counter top by the toilet, it turned its back on me and I saw my chance. Holding my breath I took the roll of toilet paper slowly from the bottom and flicked the cockroach into the toilet. Then I flushed.
Olivier called me a killer. I assured him that las cucarachas were tough and it was surely swimming its way to its next showdown.