In Which I Coin The Phrase, "Roach/Parent Greeting Sessions of Yore"

I've got a bug problem.

Now, let's be clear. In other apartments that I've had since moving to New York, there have been bug "issues." "Problem," at that time, would've been overstating it a tad. Rather, in the past, there has been the occasional roach (one, single) sitting in the middle of my floor. They've popped by to try the dinner I've cooked, or to say "Hi" when my parents come to visit. Things like that.

And, frankly, I've not minded. First of all, I like a friendly bug. It's kind of cute when they wave, they're kind of fun to talk to, and when the conversation gets boring you squish them.

Additionally, nothing says, "Send more money" to a parent like a roach in their kid's kitchen. Truth be told, roach/parent greeting sessions of yore have been mighty profitable, and have resulted in kind of an understanding between us--between me and the roaches, I mean. The contracts are very small.

Bottom line: they promise to appear only when my mom is over, and I promise not to use a single CENT of the money she leaves me to buy anything that would in any way stop them from going forth and multiplying.

Hindsight being 20/20, I now see the flaw in my plan.