The ancient Monks used insects for a lot of things. It’s a tradition that continues to this day, because my family is super weird, and they embarrass me all the time. I know that’s basically in the contract for families, but mine have it in stereo, basically, because they’re super intent on tradition and they make it known to EVERYONE. For real.
We had a cockroach problem recently. I’m fifteen and I was the ONLY one in the house who wanted to do anything about it. I open the pantry in the morning and see that the weet-bix is full of the disgusting things. And I’m the only one who thinks, ‘hey, how about those pest control people in Dandenong? The ones who deal with cockroaches and other nasties? We should call those people’. I’m on my way to looking it up when my parents tell me not to. We must learn to make the most of what we’re given, they say. I try to explain that we were given pest control people, so…that’s a thing.
No. My parents were already picking them up and putting them in a jar. A nice little…cockroach jar, as if anyone needed the image. Mum is apparently going to use them to make some kind of ancient makeup, and Dad is asking all our Albajerian neighbours if they know any recipes involving cockroaches.
I mean…I’ve seen my parents do some weird stuff, but there are those times when I genuinely worry, and hope that none of my friends at school ever get wind of this.
So I did what the teenager in the house is supposed to do, and I called pest control. Pakenham, Berwick, I don’t care where they come from. Cockroaches do not belong in pantries, anywhere near food, or even in jars. None of those are good places for cockroaches. And later, I’ll have to have a nice chat with my parents about what traditions are fine, and the kind that actually kind of went out the window when people started developing hygiene. So, that’ll be a fun talk.
-Merra
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