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I don't do cockroaches very well. They scuttle. They glare. I may be a gazillion times bigger than them but they're not frightened. They just wave their antennae at me, lift their claws into a Mohammad Ali position and stand their ground. Is it because they know something?
Yes they do. They know that when we humans are no longer on this planet they'll be in charge. Except I have news for them. Don't they read science fiction? Don't they know that after we've nuked the planet and they are marching around military style, there will be a score of us coming out of the caves and ready to take them on. We won't have totalled ourselves and we'll still be squashing those little bastards underfoot. Except, I'm not like that. I have a soft spot for anything uglier and smaller than me. When I see a cockroach, I find a tissue, clean of course, and wrap it up. You have to be quick about this or else they crab away faster than you can catch them., Wrapped up neatly in a tissue package I throw them out the window. They float away on my tissue parachute. I hope they remember who saved them. |
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