There are No Bugs in London and the Streets are Filled With...

I was telling this story to my Mom the other night and she suggested I post it. It happened the first night we stayed at our house here in London.

I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. In our current living situation, going to the bathroom means walking out of our room, into a public hall that is in view of the front door and foyer, next door to the bathroom. (I still have not gotten used to having to put a robe on to go to the bathroom and knowing that I might run into someone in the middle of the night, though I haven’t, still freaks me out a bit.)

Anyway, I look to my right and on the floor by the door is this HUGE black bug. HUGE, like two inches long. I immediately turn around, wake Trey and tell him to deal with this situation. (I don’t do well with bugs and once held a cricket hostage in our bathroom sink with Lysol in Oklahoma for 10 minutes because I knew Trey was on the way home.) So, Trey walks off to handle the situation by the door and I finish the journey I originally set out on. When I return to our bedroom I ask “Did you get it” he replied, simply “doorstop.”

The next day, we were sitting in the queue waiting to enter Buckingham palace and one of the students asked how we slept. I said “Great, I only woke up once! Didn’t you sleep well Trey?” He said “Yeah, except for when you got me up in the middle of the night to chase down the doorstop.”