Poor Nurse Sis is freaking out over the random roaches that pop up about once a week in our house, always in different places. They use those effective terrorist tactics so that you're always on the edge of your seat, waiting for them to drop on your arm. So she cowers on the kitchen counter, nursing her broken ankle with our Dyson "never loses suction" vacuum firmly in hand. My hero.
When we shopped for a house, I was poo pooed every time I mentioned ancient neighborhoods infested with roaches and how you can't get rid of them...now who has the last laugh? Of course, I'd rather be sleeping well than throwing my head back in insane criminal-minded glee. A radioactive cockroach could fall in to my gaping mouth, and then I really would be a supervillain.