An Unexpected Reason to Ditch Your Paper Grocery Bags

A few weeks after my boyfriend and I moved into our new apartment, I was spending a lovely afternoon at home, painting and arranging furniture, when I discovered an interloper: a three-inch-long cockroach living in our silverware drawer. We named him Michael Douglas (I’m a big fan of ‘80s and ‘90s thrillers) and lived in fear of him for 10 days. Every time we opened the drawer, there he was, antennae tickling our forks. But he was fast—he always darted back into some unseen hiding place and we could never figure out where he went.

That is, until we waged all-out war one night, Matt with the hose of the vacuum cleaner, me with a shoe. It was an elaborate process, but we got him. That was how we spent Valentine’s Day.

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