The Flies of March

So I was sitting on the couch the other night, watching TV with the Hubs. OK, well, I was actually semi-watching the Oscars. During the awards that I don't really care anything about (does the entire planet really need to know who did the best sound editing or makeup?), I was surfing the Web on my laptop. Let's face it: the Oscars telecast is far too long. And even though I've been watching the Oscars ever since I was a little girl, the older I get, the less patience I have for a 3-hour show.  It could be shortened to an hour or less if they would just televise the best actors/actresses and film awards.  Or at least save all of those awards for the last hour, then I'd just tune in for the end. But, I'm sure they need all the extra advertising dollars to pay for the sparkling sets, the unnecessary dazzling dance numbers,  and the coveted, shimmering statuettes, so they're never going to cut the show down to a tolerable length. So be it.

Anyhoots, as I was sitting there surfing away, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I asked the Hubs if he just saw something, and he said, no. Bear in mind, this is the same guy who can see a hawk flying high up in the sky...from inside a moving car...on a rainy day, and yet he can't see something that I just saw in the house. Whatever.

I know I saw something. My first thought was that it was a fly. But it's March. And yeah, it was a nice, spring-like sunny day, but there is still some snow outside my house, melting though it may be.  So, with all logic and common sense in place,  I dismissed the idea that I had just seen a fly and went back to my laptop Web adventures.

But then I saw it again. Up by the ceiling fan. Sure enough. It was a fly.

I'll say it again, it's March. Too early for flies in the house, in my twisted opinion. But as puzzlingly disturbing as that is to me, I decided to just ignore the Musca domestica Linnaeus (that's the scientific name for "house fly" BTW...I totally looked it up on my laptop) and get back to some serious surfing and semi-Oscar-watching.

But then I saw it again. Right there. On my keyboard. The fly.

I turned to the Hubs and not so subtly made him aware of my unwelcome laptop hitchhiker by yelling, "the fly is on my damn keyboard...gimme something to kill it with." The Hubs just laughed as he looked around, befuddled. I could tell what he was thinking. Shall I just pull a flyswatter out of my butt?

So it was all up to me. With my deft physical agility and my ninja-like reflexes [insert laughter here], I took my one and only shot at the winged menace staring up at me from the keyboard...taunting me.


Just a Dead Fly

"I got him!" I told the Hubs. He just laughed as I stared at the fly carcass laying there on my keyboard. He had it coming. If he'd stayed up on the ceiling fan, that fly would probably still be alive to pester me today. Landing on my laptop was his choice, and his final, fatal one at that.

May he rest in peace.

DISCLAIMER: While a fly was harmed and killed before making this blog post, he was not harmed and killed for the sole purpose of making this blog post. That would just be wrong.