In the three apartments we've lived in, I'm thankful to say that none of them have had a pest control problem. I know some people have to deal with horrendous infestations, and the thought of living with that makes me shudder...but y'all, the bugs we've had lately are about to make me nuts. There was a roach this morning on my oven mitt in the cabinet, just chillin'. ACK!!! DON'T THESE BUGS KNOW MY BABY IS CRAWLING ON THE SAME FLOOR THEY ARE??? Insufferable. We've had rolly-pollys (pollywogs?), spiders -eek - and big nasty roaches. Up to today, these pests have mostly followed my rules: No renegade spiders upstairs and no roaches in the kitchen (but the latter I just made up today). But if they're going to be rebellious, I'm going to have to ugly about it. These buggers carry all kinds of disease; I just can't tolerate it.
Now, I know that practically the Great Wall of China could fit in the gap between our back doors, and I ought to be thankful that the problem isn't a lot worse...but really, really? That stinker of a cock-roach this morning made me go put shoes on so I could squash the thing, while potentially running the risk of blotching my recently painted toe-nails, and was he kind enough to let me squash him when I return? NO! He crawled into a dark spot and will probably jump out on my foot when I least expect it. I'm going to be so busy watching that hole in the baseboards by the stove, I'll probably burn all the food up. ARG.