Okay, so my sister reminded me of the time that I had to take care of a Big Horking Roach, even though I am testicle-less.

It started as a ordinary trip to the zoo in New Orleans. Jack was driving, my niece and nephew were in the backseat, along with my darling Precious Babykins. It was a beautiful sunny day, and we were about to get on the bridge to cross the lake.

I looked over at Jack, and saw a BFHR clinging to the roof of the car, right over Jack's head. Not just a BHR, this was a BFHR. Yes, this one was about twice as big as the one that was in the bedroom the other day. It was ugly, and crawly, and had wavy antenna, and spiky icky legs. And it was ready to drop on Jack's head.

I took all of this in within about a tenth of a second. And in another tenth of a second, I realized that I had one true option open to me.

I reached out and GRABBED THE ROACH WITH MY BARE HAND!!!!!

It was the most horrible disgusting thing I have ever experienced. It was wriggling in my hand, trying to crawl its way out, and I was punching at the button like crazy trying to roll down the window.

Of course, the child locks were on.

I then proceeded to shriek, in a very calm and controlled manner something on the order of, "OPEN THE FUCKING WINDOW RIGHT NOW THERE'S A BIG ROACH IN MY HAND AGG! AGGGHHH!"

Somehow the window got opened. I tossed the roach out and jammed my finger on the button to close it back up. And then I yanked about a dozen baby wipes out of PB's diaper bag and tried to scrub the skin off of my hand.

Jack was completely stunned, and told me that if that thing had dropped on his head he would have most certainly driven off the bridge. Well, duh. Why do you think I grabbed the damn thing with my bare hand?

And that is the story of how I saved the lives of my entire family.