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The worst was one fine Easter morning. We were all sitting at the kitchen table preparing to dig in to our Easter breakfast. The table was nicely set. Our plates were full. I remember my mother putting two English muffins into the toaster which was placed in the middle of the table. She pressed down on the lever and sat back down. AS the toaster heated up, all the roaches which had been feasting on crumbs came spilling out over the sides, a river of twitching antenna that ran over the butter dish, our plates and down the legs of the table. Ugh.
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