I think I should be awarded some sort of Medal of Honor for staying calm in the face of extreme peril. One night while in Hawaii, I was getting ready for bed. Anna was in the room with me. I had the blankets on our bed thrown back as I gathered my book and got settled when suddenly something flew onto the bed. As soon as it landed, it began scurrying for cover, specifically MY covers:
IT. WAS. A. COCKROACH.
As freaked out as I was, I knew that if I screamed like a girl and/or mentioned/yelled the word "cockroach", Anna would NEVER sleep in that house again, and we still had several days of vacation left.
So with as much calm as I could muster, I said "Anna, would you please go get me a paper towel?" Meanwhile I scrambled to keep it from burrowing it's way into the blankets bunched at the foot of the bed.
When Anna asked what it was, I told her it was "just a little beetle"....meanwhile I'm pretty sure I now suffer from Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder. I managed to capture the beast and ran for the toilet to dispose of it. I'm pretty sure even Buddha himself would kill a cockroach that dared land in his bed, right?