Monday, September 8, 2008

bugged

Normally I don't get too wound up about bugs, even if they find their way into my space. Unless I can actually hear them skittering across the floor or they happen to be large enough for a saddle, I try to gingerly scoop them outside or just firmly shoo them away.

However. We have had a fly problem that I tried to pass off as a product of leaving doors & windows open for the fresh summer air, but even after Stu put up some very classy traps, the fiends remain. And let me tell you, that oft-perpetuated "fact" about flies only living 24 hours is completely erroneous; these monsters can survive at least two weeks (and up to 30 days! Noooooo), during which time they will reproduce like the Osmonds. My house resembles that scene in The Amityville Horror when the flies swarmed menacingly & relentlessly around the priest. I simultaneously want to scream, swat my own head to a pulp, and whack maniacally at their nasty little winged bodies. I am terribly sorry if one of them happens to be a mad but kind-hearted scientist; I will crush him.

Sooo, BBQ at our house this weekend?