Living out here is so great that I can overlook these sorts of things - but only for so long

I was going to brush my teeth and then suddenly, definitively changed my mind. I saw a cockroach on my toothbrush and all of a sudden skipping a night of brushing was prudent. I wasn’t sure what could happen from using a toothbrush treaded on by a cockroach, but assume it’s potentially far worse than plaque build up or tooth decay. Where was this roach when I was young and constantly tried to get out of brushing my teeth?

Mom! There’s a cockroach on my toothbrush!

That one would have worked for sure. Especially with this roach tonight; he was one of those big fatties that they fry up and sell as a crunchy treat on the streets of Bangkok.

And what was he doing up by my toothbrush anyways? There’s nothing up there but razors and soap and toothpaste and other clean things that I imagine are very uninteresting to a cockroach. There’s all kinds of grimy un-swept places in my house perfectly homey for a roach, why does he have to meddle in my toiletries? I guess I just wish I had a picture of it, my brush laying across the bath rack, the roach perched across the bristles like a an oddly-shaped, over-sized shell of toothpaste with tiny legs and waving antennas.

What’s really bad about finding a roach on your toothbrush is that for the next day or two I am slightly paranoid that cockroaches can, and thus will, show up in other unexpected places that had previously been bug free. Suddenly I must search through the sock drawer carefully and need to shake out my comforter before climbing into bed. Piles of laundry are also suspect crouching spots for roaches as are my unworn shoes, potentially home to one until I unexpectedly crunch it into the tip of my shoe with my big toe.