On our way back from IKEA last week we stopped at Foodtown, where we strolled the plaza – which now has a Korean doughnut shop, and soon will have a restaurant named Serious Dumplings – and then went into the supermarket. The smell was not as bad as it sometimes is. By the fish department we heard a strange noise and, looking into a covered tub, found it full of live toads. We strolled the aisles, picking up a few items (though no toads), and then took our basket to the cashier.
At home that evening we were all set to dive under our new duvet when the air-conditioner shut down. We turned on the fan and remade the bed with only a sheet. Walking to my bathroom, I noticed a cockroach in the corridor. It was large and lying on its back. I approached it with my raised sandal; the only movement it made was a last-gasp wiggling of its legs. I went and got the dustpan, swept it in, and then took it to the toilet where I flushed it down.
It was the first cockroach we had seen in 30 years. We live on the third floor, and even though Hania refuses to let the exterminator in, for health reasons, we don’t get cockroaches. One of my concerns about moving to Florida was the idea of flying cockroaches, but we never see the kind that run. At first I thought: That honeymoon is over. Then I remembered our afternoon shopping trip. I supposed a roach had been, or climbed, in our basket, and latched onto one of our boxes before snuggling nicely in our bag, which, after emptying at home, I threw on the floor of the corridor. Now I’m hoping for another good roachless run.
