And then I went to war with the fruit flies. There have been minor skirmishes in the past few weeks (since Dad put the PEARS IN THE DISH DRAINER FOR TOO LONG). The Kitten Children are desperate to catch the little beasts, but those damn fruit flies tend to soar too high and too fast and my Children are often frustrated.
I’d just had it today. The main infestation of the little critters has ended up around the mirror in the guest bathroom. This doesn’t make sense. Many of them seem to prefer the BATHROOM to the kitchen even though that room is always clean and contains ABSOLUTELY NO FRUIT WHATSOEVER.
I readied myself for combat. Luckily, I was already dressed for battle; I was wearing a sports bra, tank top and sporty-type pants (in which one can “move easily”). I’m a
tiny bit smelly rank, which feels mightily warrior-like.
Then a soldier must arm herself. I chose the Oreck XL® portable vacuum that has a shoulder strap – OH YEAH – you can wear it like an automatic weapon.
Armed and ready, with my weapon slung boldly over my right shoulder, and with JUST MY RIGHT HAND I took that vacuum hose and started my campaign. It was AWESOME.
Soon, with just the one hand (the other holding up my pants – but that’s a story for another time) I was after the flies with the flexible hose. Then, I actually found myself shouting (yes, shouting), “Fly all you want, you little bastards, I’ll get you,” and “Ah HA!!!!” and “HA!!!!!!” and “BAH!!!!!” – it’s an explosive battle cry, I’m telling you – and OKAY, just once or twice, “Boop.” The best is when I managed to suck up the little wretches in mid-flight. Too cool.
This mayhem really frightened the Kitten Children, but they are afraid of the vacuum. And perhaps Warrior Kate. ‘Cause that’s who I was: Warrior Kate (Warrior Princess Kate?). I am related to Boadicea (though after the whole Shakespeare debacle I intend to do more thorough verification on that one), but one way or the other, I am KATE, CELTIC WARRIOR QUEEN, CONQUEROR OF ALL DROSOPHILA MELANOGASTER.
Unfortunately, since the damn beasties have a life cycle of about ten minutes, in the time it’s taken me to write this entry there will be a whole new generation of them in the bathroom when I go back.
That’s why I left the vacuum out…with a little toilet paper stuffed in the nozzle so none of my prisoners could escape (who knows?). BACK TO THE TRENCHES.