Would You Like Flies With That?

Wednesday, June 12, 2013
    My message today is: do not spare the life of a fly that is flying in your home.

    I did and it backfired on me big time.

    Something you might not know about me is I call all flies "Stewart." (I also call all bees Fredric and all spiders Stanley). I started doing it a little while ago to make Ash laugh, but then it kind of stuck around. The problem with naming any type of animal, is that you grow attached to it. Yes even with flies... Just kidding, I'm not THAT attached, and no I do not want to raise a pet fly, I just feel bad about killing them now!

    Yesterday I was in the kitchen making lunch for Ash. As I mixed the salad I heard buzzing above my head. I looked up and sure enough there was Stewart sitting on the wall above my head. My first thought was to swat him, but that plan was soon set aside when I remembered that I don't own a fly swatter (young and married problems). I could always use a shoe, or paper, or some other object, but that seemed pretty graphic to me, because I would probably miss over and over again, slowly deforming the poor thing. So, I figured that if I opened the window Stewart would eventually fly out and all would be well. Ash got home soon after and we started eating lunch. I soon forgot about Stewart because I had not heard buzzing for quite some time now, I figured that he had flown out the window.

WRONG.

    As I was eating my salad, I breathed in through my nose and felt like I had inhaled a cotton fuzzy that must have been in the air. I quickly exhaled out of my nose and thought, "That was weird." But since I didn't feel like anything was in my nose anymore, I figured I had gotten rid of the cotton/whatever was in my nose.

    NBD right?

WRONG.

    I continued to eat my salad. As I put my fork in the bowl to get another piece of lettuce...

    I saw Stewart...

            .....laying in my dressing.....
                                     ...DEAD with a leg twitching!!

    It was then that I realized that it was NOT a cotton fuzzy in my nose earlier, it was STEWART! And I had killed him by blowing him out of my nose, into my salad dressing. That is not only disgusting, but that had to be the worst way to die. I seriously cannot stop itching my nose and blowing it. I think I am scarred for life.

    RIP Stewart, I know my plan was to spare your life, but obviously that did not happen. I will now proceed to blow my nose again.

    Just another day in the life.

 
 

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