DAY 85: Extreme Measures

My son and I rushed into the kitchen last night after a piercing cry emerged from my wife’s mouth.  At first, the ear-splitting noise implied the possibility of an intruder, attempting to kidnap my wife, but then again, Cyprus is relatively safe and the possibility of an early-evening intrusion in my village is virtually unheard of.   

Erasing the thought of abduction from my mind, it was revealed that my wife’s resonating cry was largely due to a simple cockroach, casually crossing paths with her in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Before I could mimic a gallant knight in shining armour, my wife had already challenged our uninvited ‘friend’ to a ferocious battle of shoe beatings; its ailing body, crushed senseless by the soles of a Nike sneaker, was swept out of the kitchen abruptly as my wife expressed her anger over the creature’s unwillingness to die hastily.

As peace ensued, my heart resumed to its regular rhythmic beat. Overwhelmed by my wife’s detestable style of communication, I questioned her language skills – which seemed rather extreme.  The previous week, a vulgar growl implied that something had gone wrong with the dishwasher; prior to that, a squealing roar suggested anger over the television remote.

Needless to say, my question was brushed aside with an irritating flicker of the hand; a ‘researched’ lecture on male ignorance and immaturity followed as I remained dumbfounded on the couch.  It seemed that my delayed heroic antics were my wife’s main concern, while her mood had mysteriously transformed from a gratifying and pleasing tone (when she first woke up in the morning), to one of overall annoyance.

Less than five minutes later, my wife was beaming with gladness again, admiring photos of our godchild – simultaneously revealing more of her invented language, most of which included sounds like “guchi guchi goo goo nu nu mwah!”

It appeared to me that the female species have developed their own covert form of communication – a “secret code” that convincingly expresses emotion and an extended list of demands and curses through a single squeal.  And surprisingly enough, without a diploma or validated certificate of approval, almost every woman has inherited this ‘divine’ gift of communication.

I am constantly in awe of the “women can multi-task” feature, but this new invented language novelty has certainly surpassed my expectations.  Having observed my wife’s body language, I am able to assess her current mood – hoping, at the best of times, to avoid a possible confrontation.

But my thoughts are with the poor bug resting lifeless outside on the veranda. Perhaps the helpless creature willingly submitted to cold murder having heard the screams emanating from a species one million times larger.

Or, could it be that the cockroach had already identified that the resistance was of the opposite sex, and despite any effort, his fate had already been decided.

Unfortunately, one male cockroach was harmed during the writing of this blog.

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts. 
For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com