Ken the Cockroach, son of Kenstar, the appliance company, watches me from the window of my microwave oven every day. I noticed him around a week back, and now he makes regular appearances at the window.
Why do I call him Ken, son of Kenstar? Because I cannot figure out how a cockroach entered the door of my microwave, and why he can’t get out, and must theorize that Kenstar chose me, perhaps their millionth customer,...