I am scared to death of cockroaches. It’s an irrational fear, and I understand that. But I am. Let me clarify… the things I’m scared of are actually called Palmetto bugs. They are Neanderthal cousins of the little innocuous, brownish, small cockroach thingies that you might see in non-South parts of the country. In the South, we have Palmetto bugs. Wait a minute while I shudder and close my eyes. OK, I’m back. These things are HUGE and dark and fast and sometimes slow and sometimes flying and ALWAYS horribly disgusting and terrifying. A good 3 inches long. Another shudder.
I was terrorized by these monsters in my childhood. We lived in an old drafty brick house beside the church and behind a grocery store. We theorized that the grocery store back area was the breeding ground of Palmetto bugs, with all of it’s casually tossed boxes empty from produce deliveries. As I think of it now, bugs would have to cover a lot of ground to get from the concrete area behind the store, across the church grounds and through our backyard, to get to our house. But, that was the story we stuck to.
I don’t know whether there weren’t as many insecticides in the 60s & 70s, whether sprays weren’t as powerful, whether it was too costly, whether people (my family) thought bugs will be bugs, or what. I vaguely remember that someone did come and treat our house now and then. No matter how it was handled, the fact remained that we had giant horrifying Palmetto bugs attack our house on a regular basis. And the attacks were always covert. Hidden. Surprising.
I clearly remember multiple occasions where I was happily playing in my room, humming a tune, enjoying silly or imaginative play. I would look in my dark closet, or under my bed, and reach out to grab what I thought might be a piece of doll clothing or a Lego, or whatever I was looking for. To my horror, the thing I reached for, or (horror of all horrors) touched, scurried away. Ewwwwwwwwwwwww. I remember, at night, happily walking onto the back porch to go outside to get our dog. When I flipped on the light, Arghhhh, right in the middle of the floor, taking off at semi-lightning speed, another disgusting guy. I remember getting ready for bed at night, happily going into the bathroom to brush my teeth, turning on the light, and there on the wall, an awfully horrifying Palmetto bug, who suddenly decided to take flight and stutteringly, awkwardly steer itself above my head flying across to the other wall. Hold on, give me a minute, I think I need a cup of chamomille tea. OK, calm breaths.
If you notice the common theme in my descriptions above, I was HAPPILY going about my business, when a Palmetto bug SUDDENLY appeared shooting pangs of terror through my body. Over and over again. Not only that, when I moved away from my parent’s home, it never failed; every time I came home to visit them, at least one Palmetto bug would appear. It actually became a joke (to them), because they insisted that they never saw those bugs anymore, except when I came home. I wasn’t laughing. At their house, I learned to steel myself, preparing for the worse, which, of course, never happened, until I let my guard down. Then, BAM, Palmetto bug terrorist.
One humorous event occurred, if you can find any humor in this situation. When I was a young single adult, one of my friends set me up on a blind date. We spoke on the phone a few times before the date, and things seemed to be going well. On date night, we had a nice evening out, then, when we arrived back in my apartment, I turned on the light, and there it was: a vile disgusting Palmetto bug in the middle of the carpet. I screamed, turned around and ran out of the apartment. After I gathered myself, I realized that my date had beat me out of there and run a good 10 yards further away. Yeah, that relationship was not gonna work. We did not have a second date.
As a parent, my kids have been somewhat amused by my fear. They have learned that a plastic cup sitting upside-down in the middle of the floor covers an upside-down Palmetto bug that I cannot bring myself to move. The best case scenario is that my husband Rob will get rid of the evidence. Worse case is that I force one of the kids against their will to dispose of it. I will never do it.
I know that people have irrational fears, and there are ways to overcome them. But, this is different. This is Palmetto bugs, for goodness sakes. How could anything be more terrifying? I’m getting myself worked up again just thinking about it.
Just so you know, I have no problem with most bugs, spiders, creepy and icky things. I’m a go-to person at my school to get things out of the building that shouldn’t be inside. When kids get freaked out by bugs on the playground, I always tell them “it’s ok, bugs live outside.” So, I am not wimpy about the insect world, and I appreciate its importance to the food chain and other contributions that its creatures make.
But, don’t, I repeat, don’t get me anywhere near a Palmetto bug. Pleeeeeeeeeease.