Reader discretion is advised.
SO. This is the time of year when I start becoming obsessed with flies. House, horse and fruit - we've got them all in great numbers right now...and this year, between the steer compost in the blended soil we just spread, new compost piles just starting to do their thing, and me spending an hour or three charging in and out every day (instead of sealing the house tight and refusing to come out until December when the winged demons are all dead like a sensible person), the problem is a lot worse in the house this year.
The sight of flies crawling around my kitchen grosses me out in a way even the nastiest diaper can't.
I've been swatting and working extra hard to keep the kitchen clean and rotting food in the compost (ahem...yeah, sometimes I don't empty the kitchen compost tub as often as I could), but still they come. By ones and tens and hundreds and thousands.
Gah.
Which brings me to the gross part.
I made burritos for dinner tonight. The Denizens LOVE burrito night, because it's one of those rare meals where they get to pick exactly what goes on their plates, and how much...and everything is in little bowls on the Lazy Suzan, which is Just Plain Cool.
So we're all making our burritos and there is Joy and Merriment and I am being complimented as the Best Chef Ever and then I noticed a big fruit fly skittering around on Captain Adventure's tortilla.
Eeeeeeeeeeew!
He saw it at the same time. I opened my mouth to say something calming, like 'hang on, buddy, mommy's got this', when...when my son, my sweet little boy, my chubby-cheeked innocent...
..slapped his pudgy hand down over the little fruit fly, squishing it expertly against his beans...
..then, as I opened my mouth wider to yell, "Nooooooooooooooooo...!"
HE QUITE DELIBERATELY AND WITH APPARENT RELISH...
Ate. It.
And then I had a heart attack and died, the end.
I'm not sure what bothers me more, that he did it...or that he did it so CONFIDENTLY, leading me to wonder if this is, you know...a....regular? Thing? With...him...?
Ugh! Shudder! Weep...
..hold me...
(I don't CARE that it's "free" protein. I don't care that fruit flies are a delicacy in Outer Bbzecherydhckvlee. IT IS JUST PLAIN DISGUSTING, READ MY LIPS: DEEEEEEEE-SKUS-TIN!!!!!)
..I need a vacation...so badly...
8 comments:
I love reading your blog and I am a lurker. I love your stories about Captain Adventure the most.
I recently heard that hanging a bag of water deters flies... some research says yes and some says no. If you Google for water bags for flies you will have plenty to read. Here is just one link http://tinyurl.com/mojfhe
It apparently only works for controlling flies but at least that would help with part of the problem. I have never tried it, so I have no experience with it. I just thought it was an intriguing solution.
I don't know how to help with the horse and house flies but I know how to trap and kill the fruit flies. Just fill a container with an inch of apple cider vinegar, drop a few drops of dish washing liquid in and stir. Leave it in the kitchen. The fruit flies are attracted to the vinegar scent but the soap coats their little bodies or something and they drown in it. Although going into the kitchen and seeing a little jar of drowned fruit flies is still gross, it's better than eating them.
ROFLMBOOOO!! Boys rock! My darling eldest used to eat ants in the back yard....thankfully he outgrew that habit before he started getting interested in girls. I'm pretty sure that would've been a deal-breaker come prom time. The Captain will survive. Besides, you know yourself there are worse things he could put in his mouth. (eeewwwww....!)
Oh I just...I can't think...I'm laughing too hard...ack....
Too funny. He probably did it just to watch the assorted expressions flash across your face.
Also gross - DH left a bottle of red wine open on the counter overnight and the next day, poured himself a glass of wine and got about a bazillion inebriated fruit flies instead. That'll learn him.
Gross, but charming. Just keep telling yourself that it's a good challenge for his immune system. Then, get yourself to what passes for an old timey hardware store or a super WallyWorld and buy some flypaper. Really, really cheap and non-toxic way to cut the fly population wayyyyyy down. I know about this because my friend has a kennel and even though it's clean as can be, in the summer? Flies.
Someday, I hope to begin to repay the debt I owe you. Many weeks when I was doubting not only our ability to remain frugal and get anywhere with it--especially less in debt which I still can't say has been a, um, wild success--your comments over at Extreme Frugality saved my sanity, warmed my heart and squashed the naysayers (who will remain nameless merely to deny them any more light of day) like the pesky houseflies invading both our homes. You were my Captain Adventure gladly chomping down and I thank you. Little did I know you were doing such great things on the other side of cyberspace. I'm going to figure out a way to link to your blog this week. Maybe I'll simply refuse to write for my corporate masters if they don't link to you. By the way, we have horse, moose, house, and now, once again, pantry flies. The pantry variety, in fact, have become so overcrowded that on a regular daily basis they send out scouts--tiny yellow mobile larvae (must have a name)--that inch along the ceiling until I spot them out the corner of my eye and squish them with unsettling anger. And those fruit flies: we're supposed to empty the compost bucket? That's why there's a cloud of fruit flies in our kitchen? Your grateful servant.
Laughing my you-know-what off, here!
It. is. normal. Kids are gross. And I hate to tell you this, but boys are far worse than girls. With one grown and two more well on the way, I can assure you, he will survive. You, on the other hand, may not.
My boys make a game of shooting flies with rubber bands. They get different scores based on the size and speed of the fly. They did not come up with this game; they learned it from their father, who learned it from an Air Force colonel thirty years ago. Apparently, males have a long history of taking pride in the disgusting. I'm not sure which is worse: when they hit the fly and it vaporizes on impact, spreading fly particles in a ten foot radius, or when they hit it and it doesn't, leaving the mashed carcass for me to discover and clean up at a later date.
Post a Comment