Waging war on wood slaves
I feel like one becomes a true island girl when she experiences her first wood slave kill... all whilst frantically swatting a broom with one foot on her tall wicker chair and the other on her bar countertop.
Two nights ago, we encountered each other. Well, perhaps he didn't notice me but I sure stared him down. He had made himself cozy perched on the highest point of the kitchen ceiling. I grabbed the broom, slamming it into the wall and watched as he scurried away, taking residence upon my cabinets. I closed the lights...
I remember the first time a wood slave scaled his way from the balcony into my apartment. Just shy of a week into my new life in Anguilla, I was confronted with the character, suctioning himself to the wall watching the silly American contemplate how she would remove his scaly body. At that moment, Janiera, board member and buddy, called to check in and see how I was settling in. I told her of the creature who decided to join me for the evening. Appalled by geckos and lizards, Janiera assured me she would be by in 20 minutes with her husband, professional reptile remover.
I plopped into my uncomfortable wicker chair until I heard the car doors. I watched as her husband, with one hit, knocked the gecko down. He grabbed it and marched it's tiny body into the bathroom. With just a flush, the wood slave was history.
On several occasions, I was greeted by babies who slipped their bodies underneath the screen door. Quickly caught with tupperware, I scooted them out. Despite a few faked deaths, I only experienced one casualty... the chopped tail and it's lingering wiggle in the center of my apartment...
Two nights ago, we encountered each other. Well, perhaps he didn't notice me but I sure stared him down. He had made himself cozy perched on the highest point of the kitchen ceiling. I grabbed the broom, slamming it into the wall and watched as he scurried away, taking residence upon my cabinets. I closed the lights...
until we meet again little wood slave, until we meet again.
I remember the first time a wood slave scaled his way from the balcony into my apartment. Just shy of a week into my new life in Anguilla, I was confronted with the character, suctioning himself to the wall watching the silly American contemplate how she would remove his scaly body. At that moment, Janiera, board member and buddy, called to check in and see how I was settling in. I told her of the creature who decided to join me for the evening. Appalled by geckos and lizards, Janiera assured me she would be by in 20 minutes with her husband, professional reptile remover.
I plopped into my uncomfortable wicker chair until I heard the car doors. I watched as her husband, with one hit, knocked the gecko down. He grabbed it and marched it's tiny body into the bathroom. With just a flush, the wood slave was history.
On several occasions, I was greeted by babies who slipped their bodies underneath the screen door. Quickly caught with tupperware, I scooted them out. Despite a few faked deaths, I only experienced one casualty... the chopped tail and it's lingering wiggle in the center of my apartment...
until tonight.
Now, I won't get into the sound effects involved in the process, as we can all just go ahead and imagine my extremely composed, superhero of a self. I stretched the broom out, planting my feet and balancing myself between chair and countertop. With all my might, I whacked the wall and watched his body fall to the tile floor. Overcome with guilt, I apologized, swept the carcass up, blessed the body, dumped it over the balcony, and scrubbed the bloodstained wall.
Rest in peace, little man... until I meet your cousin.
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