I like to think of myself as an independent person who can handle most crises when they arise. (There was that one time when I was being hounded to pay a debt that wasn’t mine by an aggressive debt collector over the phone and I just had to hand over the phone to my father because I was a little too much in shock.)

But in general I can get the oil changed in my car, replace the windsheild wipers, fix minor thing in the house, not make laundry too mouldy, etc. Obviously I’m building myself up to you all for a moment in which I was not so super independent and I don’t want anyone to get an overwhelmingly wrong picture of me. I really can take care of myself and when Ryan has to move off for grad school for a year I probably won’t starve or set the house on fire.

That all said, about a month ago I nearly lost it. In our tiny little home we have a seasonal problem that is generally really easy to handle, every summer (and by every I mean both of the summers that we’ve actually lived here) we have a short run where we find a fly in the house daily. Each day said poor fly gets killed and the following day a new one miraculously appears. We have no solid idea of how/where they are getting in but get in they do. And one fly a day…totally managable. That was until the unthinkable happened. Somehow the buggers really invaded and I started to come home to 3, then 7, then 8 and then then the REALLY unthinkable happened. I was able to kill off 3 and the 7 and the 8 (although my conscious was starting to bother me at this point) without help from Ryan. The buggers were easy to kill since they tended to flock towards the windows. It was becoming almost a routine when I came home to go “hunting”. No biggie, right? What do you think your breaking point would be? Well here was mine: 40. Yeah, you aren’t misreading that and isn’t a typo…I came home to FOURTY FRIGGIN FLIES in MY HOUSE.

Here’s a picture of half the crew:


You know, there are 40 in that picture alone, that means there were more because this is just one window of the house that had an “issue”.

I 100% freaked out. I was grossed out to the very core of my being (and that is sorta weird when you consider the line of work I’m in). How many of you can say that you wouldn’t have freaked out as well? My response. I called Ryan, collected the trash and got the heck out of the house. Why the trash? Well, given the lifecycle of the flies and what they like to reproduce in I figured something in our trash was the most likely candidate. It would fit with the timing of the invasion occurring over the weekend we were out of town and neglected to take out the trash. That lone little sucker procreated in our trash…ugh and that left me with a war on my hands. Ryan is still probably laughing at the phone conversation and how wigged out I was. When I’m not looking at the above photo I can laugh about it too.

Solution/war plan: Talk to local hardware store guys (they know everything!), leave only with the equivalent of flypaper and a plan. Step one, get rid of current issue. This ended up being a multiprong attack with the help of Ryan who was just coming home at that time. Kill, kill, kill. Actually quite a few of those flies got to flee. Rather than squashing the 80 or so flied in our house (ugh!), I could slide open the top of the window and some of the smarter bugs flew away. Yeah smart bugs. The dumber ones got trapped between the lower window and the screen. And the dumb dumb ones were squashed. We thoroughly sweep the house and cleaned it. Found the most egg shells in the area where we kept the trash so maybe my theory wasn’t so off after all so the following day I went and bought trash cans with lids.

Since then we still get the occasional fly (who still gets squashed) but even that number has gone dramatically down.

I hope none of you ever have to go through an experience like that. To hear you own home buzz (and not with excitement) still makes my neck cringe.

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