Why I'll Never Be on Fear Factor

Michael (our exterminator) called.

He came. He sprayed. He conquered.

Not just the roaches.

A rat, too.

My husband found it in the basement on Sunday--dead, in a trap Michael had set months ago--when he changed the air-conditioner filter.

"Give me a plastic bag or something," Michael told me.

I gave him a thick bag, the one the L.A. Times arrives in daily.

"Another bag, please," Michael called from the basement. "A big one."

I handed my son a large supermarket bag to give Michael. I walked into my office, directly across from the basement door.

"He's a big one," my son said, peering into the basement. "Wanna see?"

"No," I said. 

I have offed dozens of characters in my mysteries. I have described crime scenes and, sometimes, gore.

"No, I really don't."

Comments

[Z]

I don't blame you!!!! Ick! While I can tolerate the goriest of true crime...seeing it "up close and personal" - no thanks. Hope your roach motel is now closed for business!