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This week I'm introducing some of my staff. Today I'd like you to meet Amber Beecher. Yes siree, same last name. Not only is Amber the Administrative Coordinator at the book clubs, she's also my daughter-in-law. I try my best to not let the roles of boss and mother-in-law get mixed up. I sure hope she feels that way, too.
Amber included a personal note along with her favorite Dear Reader column.
"We had just moved to Florida. It was the first night in our new house. I got into bed and a few minutes later, I felt something running up my leg and when I investigated--a huge roach was heading up towards my shorts. My husband and I almost moved back to Wisconsin that night."
Amber's Favorite Dear Reader:
I couldn't see clearly because I didn't have my glasses on and it was in the middle of the night. But I was pretty sure that big, blotchy, mass running up the wall next to my bed wasn't there when I went to sleep.
Lights on! Yell at husband. (He's in charge of things that scurry in the night.) Pull covers over my head in case that thing goes airborne.
Yes, we have an exterminator. But every now and then a critter gets through the outside bug barrier. This roach--a really big roach--obviously maneuvered his way around it. He was bold all right. He knew we'd seen him; he could have retreated, but he chose to stay put and defend his wall. OK, this was war!
My husband's weapon of choice was a rolled up newspaper, but I quickly reminded him that squishing the enemy on the wall would make for a messy cleanup job, possibly even touch-up painting. I suggested the vacuum cleaner instead. And after a fleeting chase, the vacuum did indeed suck that roach right up through the hose.
Now safe and secure, I thought I'd drift right off to sleep, but I didn't. Did you ever watch the Mighty Mouse cartoon show when you were a kid? I did, and for some reason the image of Mighty Mouse with his chest puffed out, flexing the muscles in his arms was suddenly crystal clear in my mind. Now all I could think about was, 'What if that roach spends all night in that vacuum cleaner bag, munching on yesterday's toast crumbs, and in the morning he crawls down the vacuum hose and emerges as Mighty Roach?'
Lights on--again. Yell at husband--again. You hold the vacuum cleaner hose upright, Dear. I'll get the duct tape.
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.