I know it's an irrational fear, but...

cockroaches freak me out! I hate them! I don't know why God invented them. I mean...I'm sure there is some purpose for them, but I haven't figured any out yet.

Anyway, what happens when you combine an irrational fear with a pregnant woman's need to use the bathroom every two hours each night? Drama.

Night Number 1 with cockroach in the bathroom:
I staggered into the bathroom at 2:13am and found a cockroach on the bathroom wall. I figured I had 6 options:
1. Acknowledge that my hatred of cockroaches is stupid and ignore him.
2. Try to kill him.
3. Try to kill him but actually just make a lot of noise so my darling husband will come in and save the day.
4. Wake up said husband and ask him to come save the day.
5. Leave the light on, go back to bed for awhile, and hope the nocturnal beast crawls away.
6. Take a leaf out of the movie "Baby Mamma" and pee in the sink.

Let's be real. Option 1 and 6 were NOT going to happen. Option 5 was pretty much not going to work either...when a pregnant woman has to use the bathroom, she has to use the bathroom! That left options 2, 3, and 4. I felt that 4 was a bit silly. I have no problem demanding Hugo kill the beasts when he is awake, but waking him up for the sole purpose of killing a cockroach seemed a bit crazy...even to me. I tried once again to tell myself the fear is totally irrational and settled on option 2. I grabbed the broom and took a whack. Without meaning to, I realized that option 3 might actually take over. I didn't mean to make so much noise, but it just happened. However, after a few whacks against the wall, I remember this is Hugo we are talking about...the man who recently slept through a fireworks display. Rats. He wasn't going to wake up because of just a few brook smacks against the wall. And worse still...without my glasses, my depth perception was zero. I don't think I even came close to the monster. But it appeared that my numerous attempts had managed to anger him...he took off at a sprint. Where to...I had no idea. Rats!! Where did he go?! I used the broom to knock the trash can...thinking maybe he fell down there. Nope. I didn't find him. I did manage to tip the trash can over though. Great. My irrational fear was now combined with my rational one...germs. Now what was I going to do?! Having a hidden cockroach was about the worst thing in the world. He could pop out at any moment! At this point, I decided the only option I had left was number 1. I did my business as fast as possible and got the heck out of there.

Night number 2 with cockroach in the bathroom:
I thought to myself, forget this...I'm going directly to option 4. And, I didn't feel a bit guilty after the previous night's disaster.

Night number 3, 4, 5, and 6 without cockroach in the bathroom:
Shoot. Now I felt extremely guilty about night number 2. Every time I rolled over, moved, or even thought about getting out of bed, Hugo would sit up and say, "Are you ok? Another cockroach? Do you need me to come help?"

I think I scarred him for life.