All Because Of A Bug

This morning David got up at his usual time to do his usual thing in the bathroom. I swear you could set your clock by him. About ten minutes later he comes back into the bedroom to wake me out of a half dazed coma to tell me there was a ginormous roach by the bathroom scale.

Like why the fuck is he waking me up for this!?!  But what I blurted out was something completely different like "it probably weighed itself and shouted DAYUM and had a heart attack and fell off the scale."

Anywho, David was not amused and neither was I for the fact that he woke me up for a damned bug report. I just told him to give it a proper toilet burial and this weekend we need to spray the house inside and out.

Now I have to let y'all in on something about David/husband/sexy beast/plaything. He's got that fucking OCD thing. Yeah, really bad. If he sees that the lawn is a 6th of an inch high from the last time he cut it, guess what, he has got to go and cut it at that moment. So you can just imagine how much of a fight he put up when I had to get him to forget the spraying thing right this morning.

He's going to be alright. Only a few cuts and his nose stopped bleeding after I told him to put some ice on it. It didn't look broken to me.