To Kill a Fly

There’s a fly in my house and it’s annoying me.

It’s not an ordinary house fly. I know because I killed it five times yesterday.

Yet it’s here again this morning flying about as if it owns the place.

I am beginning to think it is some sort of mutant nineteen to life fly.

I’ve wacked it so many times with a fly swatter (Shut up. Yes fly swatters still exist and yes, I own three of them.) it should be beyond dead.

It isn’t. rubegoldberg_photo_gal_4155_photo_1397774185_lr

It’s still here.

It’s still annoying me.

I’m still trying to eradicate it from my house.

I have visions of tacky, swirly, strips of brown gooed paper hanging from my ceiling. Those are the things from my childhood that still haunt me. And yet, if I could find stuff like that, I’d certainly try it.

The fly must go.

I make the payments on this house.

The mortgage is in my name.

I should be the one who says who stays and what goes and I say the fly has to go.

It disagrees with me. I think it may even be inviting guests. I just saw a gnat buzz by. I am really unhappy now.

I have an exterminator who exterminates my house on a regular basis. The fly and his friends don’t care.

I have enlisted help with eradicating the fly. Help being my son – younger, taller, hopefully quicker

Son has tried the fly swatter, the newspaper, a magazine, a towel, cursing, and finger pointing with one finger.

The fly remains.

I tried inviting the fly to dinner by pointing to the oven, preheated to ‘hot as blazing hell’. He declined the invitation.

I try to avoid anything sprayish in my home due to allergies and non-stop sneezing, but I am seriously considering that Bug-B-Gone spray – if it comes with a guarantee. Right now I’d spray TNT if it would rid my house of the fly. I fear that it may also rid me of my house. Either that or I’d have to clean up the mess. I try to avoid that cleaning thing when it comes to messes.

When I left home this morning I set a trap for the fly, one I’m sure will work. I admit it’s sort of a Rube Goldberg contraption, and I’m proud of it. I’ll be more proud if the fly is gone when I get home this evening.

If not, I’m setting a place for him at the table, complete with brown gooey gravy on a thn strip of paper – served just for him.

 

From the life and mind of Wanda M. Argersinger

© 2015 All Rights Reserved

www.wandaargersinger.com

 

 

About Wanda Argersinger

One comment

  1. Try shooting rubber bands at the interloper. You never have to leave your chair, and it counts as upper body exercise.

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