A too-close encounter

There is a great variety of wildlife in the Outer Banks, should you be inclined to seek out its company. Most of our own encounters with wildlife took place indoors and were definitely not instigated by us. Indoor encounters are not optimal, because there are fewer places to run and hide. For us, I mean.

On the first evening of our vacation we were greeted by a large cockroach, about the size of an African elephant, swaggering across the living room floor. Of course I, as the female, was the one to sound the alarm upon sighting the intruder, mainly because I, as the female, am the only one who ever sees such intruders.

The Cockroach Alert sounds remarkably similar to Everyday Toddler Speak, in which only essential words are communicated:

"Big! Thing! Roach! Get it get it GET IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

This Alert was of course accompanied by the Toddler Stomp performed around the living room, the object of which is never to have both feet on the ground at the same time, for fear the intruder might run up one of them.

I did manage to wave a flyswatter threateningly in the direction of the cockroach while Joe went to call the National Guard, but the cockroach showed no fear of my weapon, probably because he knew that I would not get close enough to actually use it on him, for fear I would miss and he would run up one of my legs.

This is a situation in which my father would say, "Has a cockroach EVER run up your leg? Then why are you afraid of it? It's more afraid of you." My father also told us, when we were growing up, that eating carrots would put hair on our chest. I am not sure why he thought this would be appealing to four daughters, but the point is that a father's wisdom, though helpful in many areas of life, cannot be trusted when it comes to cockroaches.

Speaking of cockroach wisdom, if you are ever faced with a giant cockroach, and you are tempted to dispatch of it by sucking it up in the vacuum cleaner, avoid that temptation. Because unless you are prepared to keep the vacuum cleaner running for some time -- say, a few months -- you are wasting your time, because the minute the suction ceases the cockroach comes back out of the hose, sashaying about and thumbing his nose at you. At least this is what our cockroach did.

We finally persuaded the cockroach, through a series of pokes with the vacuum cleaner hose and Toddler Stomps meant to shoo him in the right direction, to exit the house of his own accord, through the front door. Naturally we were aware that he could, at any time, return into the house, probably with 72 of his closest friends and relatives, and we set about removing anything of value from the floor. The house thus looked as if we were expecting an invasion by bears, with everything -- clothes, suitcase, bed, etc. -- hanging from every available hook at least 6 feet from the ground. We conveniently ignored the fact that cockroaches can climb up the wall.

And although the menace did not return, I continued to do the Toddler Stomp when moving about the house. Just in case.