I hate flies. Especially when they are inside the house. I pretty much hate all insects inside the house. They are okay when outside, but being inside is a different thing. I have the right to kill all insects that I find inside the house. That is my opinion. I once spent half an hour with my friend, chasing down a moth in our room. We were pretty serious about it.
I am not the type of girl to scream when I see a spider in the corner. I grew up with boys and black widows and hornets in our back yard. I tend to grab the first napkin I can find and squish the bug. Unless I am in a good mood, then I might let it live and carry it outside.
Thus begins my story. When I came home tonight, there was a fly buzzing around my room. He seems rather proud of it because he kept flying right next to me, as if to taunt me. Well he did taunt me and I tried to get him. But was not successful and eventually gave up. I did not want to turn it into another half-hour scenario. I soon forget about the fly until after dinner. After having cleaned and put away all the dishes, I am having a nice cup of tea with my hostess. It is her habit, and is becoming mine, to have tea in the evening. So we were having a very nice and somewhat intimate conversation. Now enters the fly, taunting me ever so much. (I know this may have not been the same fly, but I think it was) He was flying right in front of me and hovering over my drink. My hands go up and my tea goes down.
I have recently come to the conclusion that a place has not been "blessed by Jennifer" unless I have seriously spilled something or stupidly hurt myself. It is usually the former that happens the most. But tonight it was both. I had managed to escape this curse for two weeks, and it had to end like this!
So again, my arm goes up, knocks over my cup, and down goes the hot tea. Thankfully the cup did not go with it. But still the tea spills on my feet and all over the floor. Of course tonight had to be a cold night, so I am wearing two layers of socks and a pair of slippers. I soon realize that the tops of my feet are burning. I quickly pull off my socks and throw them aside.
There I am, standing barefoot in the kitchen with burned feet and a huge puddle on the floor. My hostess kind of laughs saying, "I saw that coming." We quickly clean it up while she remarks that she was planning on cleaning the floor tomorrow anyway. After it is all cleaned up and the excitement has calmed down we end up going our separate ways. Perfect way to close a good conversation.
Jennifer has entered the premises! Thank you Mr. Fly.
P.S. My feet are fine. No serious burns. Hope this has added some humor to your weekend.
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