Flies in the kitchen and a crazy cat...
Flies = II
Ninja Fly Killa = VI
Quiet. The house sits quiet. The children, my husband, even the cat are all asleep. I should be. Its very late. Well, very late if you have to drag butt out of bed while the sun is still sleeping in order to get your middle schooler to the bus and off to school on time. I am not a morning person. I think this has been determined through the time of day these blogs have been posted, and if you have ever caught me by phone or in person before ten a.m. It's not usually very pretty. More Medusa meets Cruella De'ville bred with a mother grizzly. My husband (and my children) can verify this data.
So, I work at night. Its my time. My time to do it ALL. Homework, housework, whatever I can find that needs to be done. Sometimes, I even get to read during this time, and that is a real treat... love it but it is dangerous because I often find myself inside the story and by the time I pause to release my screaming bladder and stretch the tingly sleeping legs-- I realize it is 3 am!
Anyway- whew. Tangent. Sorry. Its quiet. Perfectly. Except for... buzz--whoooosh--buzz---whoosh
Holy crap. You kidding me?? Ignore it. Clickety click of the my laptop keys typing-- Facebook, emails, Algebra homework... buzz--whoooosh--buzz buzz--whoosh Oh man! I hate flies. Next to mosquitoes-- most annoying insect. I pause- try to eye them (there are several)-- I grab at one and clearly miss. Frantically looking around the kitchen for something that may resemble a fly swatter... then I see it. A large, silver, wood handled, BBQ spatula. Will have to do. I swing, long arms flailing about the kitchen as I wield my new 'sword'. I smack one and feel contact, but it, being a super fly- keeps flying. I curse their name, wishing they were named 'lands'. I focus. Deep breaths in and out. Starha- solid, centered. I swing at the next one flying by- BAM- one down. I celebrate gleefully. The taunt me- buzzing and whooshing and flying near me and quickly. I flail about again- clearly this sight alone is enough to scare off the cat who has come to check and see if I am ready for bed yet. The next fly lands near the sink- and CLANK- I smack down on it and score. This dance and duel continues periodically for the next hour, each celebration of smooshed "lands-and-dies" as loudly and proudly as the time before. No one wakes. I pat myself on the back for my newly honed Ninja-fly-swatting-spatula skills, clearly note on the new 'fly swatter' not to use for anything other than killing these boogers- and head to bed.
Do not doubt a determined woman. She will find the tools. She will find the means. She will settle the score.
"More than anything else the sensation is one of perfect peace mingled with an excitement that strains every nerve to the utmost, if you can conceive of such a combination." --Wilbur Wright
Ninja Fly Killa = VI
Quiet. The house sits quiet. The children, my husband, even the cat are all asleep. I should be. Its very late. Well, very late if you have to drag butt out of bed while the sun is still sleeping in order to get your middle schooler to the bus and off to school on time. I am not a morning person. I think this has been determined through the time of day these blogs have been posted, and if you have ever caught me by phone or in person before ten a.m. It's not usually very pretty. More Medusa meets Cruella De'ville bred with a mother grizzly. My husband (and my children) can verify this data.
So, I work at night. Its my time. My time to do it ALL. Homework, housework, whatever I can find that needs to be done. Sometimes, I even get to read during this time, and that is a real treat... love it but it is dangerous because I often find myself inside the story and by the time I pause to release my screaming bladder and stretch the tingly sleeping legs-- I realize it is 3 am!
Anyway- whew. Tangent. Sorry. Its quiet. Perfectly. Except for... buzz--whoooosh--buzz---whoosh
Holy crap. You kidding me?? Ignore it. Clickety click of the my laptop keys typing-- Facebook, emails, Algebra homework... buzz--whoooosh--buzz buzz--whoosh Oh man! I hate flies. Next to mosquitoes-- most annoying insect. I pause- try to eye them (there are several)-- I grab at one and clearly miss. Frantically looking around the kitchen for something that may resemble a fly swatter... then I see it. A large, silver, wood handled, BBQ spatula. Will have to do. I swing, long arms flailing about the kitchen as I wield my new 'sword'. I smack one and feel contact, but it, being a super fly- keeps flying. I curse their name, wishing they were named 'lands'. I focus. Deep breaths in and out. Starha- solid, centered. I swing at the next one flying by- BAM- one down. I celebrate gleefully. The taunt me- buzzing and whooshing and flying near me and quickly. I flail about again- clearly this sight alone is enough to scare off the cat who has come to check and see if I am ready for bed yet. The next fly lands near the sink- and CLANK- I smack down on it and score. This dance and duel continues periodically for the next hour, each celebration of smooshed "lands-and-dies" as loudly and proudly as the time before. No one wakes. I pat myself on the back for my newly honed Ninja-fly-swatting-spatula skills, clearly note on the new 'fly swatter' not to use for anything other than killing these boogers- and head to bed.
Do not doubt a determined woman. She will find the tools. She will find the means. She will settle the score.
"More than anything else the sensation is one of perfect peace mingled with an excitement that strains every nerve to the utmost, if you can conceive of such a combination." --Wilbur Wright
Comments
Post a Comment