Pests and Glamour

I tease mom all the time about her rabid attacks on flies. Like a woman possessed she is furious, focused and tenacious in pursuit of the dirty beasts. She is similarly rabid toward the feral cats who invade her yard, and the carpenter ants who enter the kitchen. (Don't even speak of mice!)

A fly on the wall here would tell you that this apple didn't fall too far from the tree. For whatever reason, I recently had a brief fly infestation and with no swatter on hand a dishtowel became my weapon of choice. After 3 days of random wild whacking (and a bent blind) I looked at my floors littered with several dozen fly carcasses and became suspicious I have moms short pest fuse. Several days later when I beat an innocent black cricket to death having mistaken it for an early stage cockroach I knew I truly was my mothers daughter.

In other exciting news...I now have my own garbage/recycle cans, I'm still addicted to purchasing chairs, and I have a sleeping regime that is so off kilter I could qualify as strictly nocturnal.

Ahhhh, the glamour and adventure of my carefree single life. Try to contain your envy.