There's a roach in your laundry room.

This post is appropriately titled, because that is what I texted my mother Saturday morning.

Backstory: I'm staying at my parent's house until my new apartment is ready to be inhabited.  I got up Saturday morning to put some clothes in the dryer and get ready for work and was promptly greeted by a roach the size of a smart car.

Not really, but it was on the larger side of all the roaches I've ever seen in my life.  My mom was at my grandparent's house, so she wasn't there to save me.

The following is a text message conversation between my mother and I:

Some important things that were left out of this conversation:

For most of the time this transpired, I was standing in the kitchen screaming with a bowl in my hand.  I don't actually know what I was prepared to do with the bowl, but it was at the ready.

When my sister got the air freshener out, she insisted it was going to work to kill the thing, to which I replied "It can survive a nuclear war, I don't think it's going to mind getting lavender fresh!"  

There may or may not be a need to purchase more air freshener at my parent's house now.

My dad is a hero.  For the first part of this adventure, he was watching stuff on his iPad not to be bothered.  Then suddenly he appeared right as he was most needed and he smashed the thing AND picked it up with a paper towel.  That's what dads are for, right?

My sister is a hero, too.  I couldn't even get near it and she's assaulting it with Febreeze.  She's a rockstar.

Apparently, I feel the need to use the phrase "this is not a drill" quite frequently.  It's important to note we've never actually had a roach in the house drill before.

My heart rate is still coming down days later.