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A bug problem, to be specific. It all began three days ago when my mother exclaimed, "Flies!" Did we take her seriously? Of course not. Mothers always over-react. Right?
...wrong. Fast forward to yesterday. There are somewhere between 20-30 flies in my kitchen. I lost count at 23.
While I was doing an ab workout in my living room yesterday, I suddenly became very itchy. I often over react because I have a bug phobia, but swatted my back, anyways...
Ah ha! YES! THREE ANTS ON MY SKIN! OH MY GOSH SCREAM-AT-THE-TOP-OF-MY-LUNGS-NASTY!
Did I mention I hate bugs? Hate em.
Snakes? Fine. Squirrels? I'm a big girl. Thunder storms and tornadoes? I'll deal. BUGS? GET ME OUT OF HERE!
Did I also mention that, on the fateful day of bug infestation, the Taylor household was occupied by none other than... my sister and I.
SERIOUSLY?!
I came downstairs to see a window full of about 15-20 new flies... and proceeded to "massacre" them. Yes, massacre used as a verb.
Is it bad that I pretended I was in a war movie as I swung left to right, froze and surveyed my quadrant, then swung again? Please say no. It was necessary! I WAS AT WAR! (Am I getting a little dramatic here? I told you, I hate bugs!)
Here's the beginning of Fly Graveyard... [Cue the "JAWS" music...]
Once we realized we were in a fight to the death (and that we, as young women, were alone in this bug war), it was off to Ace Hardware for some supplies...
...wrong. Fast forward to yesterday. There are somewhere between 20-30 flies in my kitchen. I lost count at 23.
While I was doing an ab workout in my living room yesterday, I suddenly became very itchy. I often over react because I have a bug phobia, but swatted my back, anyways...
Ah ha! YES! THREE ANTS ON MY SKIN! OH MY GOSH SCREAM-AT-THE-TOP-OF-MY-LUNGS-NASTY!
Did I mention I hate bugs? Hate em.
Snakes? Fine. Squirrels? I'm a big girl. Thunder storms and tornadoes? I'll deal. BUGS? GET ME OUT OF HERE!
Did I also mention that, on the fateful day of bug infestation, the Taylor household was occupied by none other than... my sister and I.
SERIOUSLY?!
I came downstairs to see a window full of about 15-20 new flies... and proceeded to "massacre" them. Yes, massacre used as a verb.
Is it bad that I pretended I was in a war movie as I swung left to right, froze and surveyed my quadrant, then swung again? Please say no. It was necessary! I WAS AT WAR! (Am I getting a little dramatic here? I told you, I hate bugs!)
Here's the beginning of Fly Graveyard... [Cue the "JAWS" music...]
Trust me, it got far worse. I won't show you the carnage. It is far too gruesome...
Once we realized we were in a fight to the death (and that we, as young women, were alone in this bug war), it was off to Ace Hardware for some supplies...
And then off to the perimeter of the premises for some hard core bug killing action...
Which my sister obviously represented by a Charlie's Angels pose...
As my poor little pup looked at us and said, "That smells REAL funny, what are you up to!?"
I contemplated naming this post The Lord Of The Flies. <--That, we were.
And the above photo would be my battle-ready stance. WE FIGHT FOR SPARTA.
Or maybe that would look more like this...
As of now, there are still a few stragglers making their way out of the woodwork. They are promptly nailed by my neon orange fly swatter.
Um. So anyways. Did you find this post irrelevant? Durn. Fine. I will be back later with a legitimate post. Thanks for humoring me. :)
