Last night started out as a regular evening at the Duffy house. I came home, cooked dinner, yelled at the children, broke up a sibling altercation, listened to the Blaze and the Monster Machines song, explained to the children for the 100th time that Metallica is musical genius, not painful ear noise, washed dishes. You know, the usual. And then, I decided to go to the basement to do laundry.
I opened the door and picked up the pile of laundry that had accumulated at the top of the stairs, and my oldest exclaims “What the heck is that???” I turned to follow her finger and found myself eye to eye with a swarming black mass of insect bodies covering the window. I stepped slowly away from the window and dropped the laundry. Flies. Everywhere. But just on that window. I hadn’t seen them anywhere else in the house, until we opened the basement door.
“Mom, where are they coming from?” Maddy asks as we stand there paralyzed by the spectacle.
“I don’t know, but shut the door so we don’t let them into the house.” I instructed.
“Mom, get the fly swatter, we can kill them.”
“Who has a fly swatter? No one buys those things. Hang on.” I dash out the door and close it behind me. Leaving my first born trapped in the basement with what may very well be the beginning of a serious poltergeist event in my house. I reminisce on the first time I threw her in harm’s way when she was just a mere 4 months old and I was too paralyzed by my fear of bats to rescue her from the dining room where the rabid vampire bat was swooping round her head. (At least I’m consistent I reassure myself.) I scoop up the issues of Sports Illustrated I’m behind on reading and head back to the basement.
“Here! Take one of these and roll it up. We’ll smack them down with this.” Maddy takes the Lebron championship cover issue and rolls it into what will be noted in the homicide report later as the blunt object of mass destruction. I roll up my own.
“Okay. 1-2-3 GO!!!!!” I shriek and land the first blow. It takes out 2 and the angry black iridescent beasts abandon their posts on the window and begin flying in the direction of the attack. I feel their bacteria covered feet and wings brushing my skin. I hold my breath and duck low in an evasive maneuver. I swing the magazine wildly over my head and I think I can hear their little foul epithets as I fell several more members of their brethren. I open my eyes and see that Maddy has managed to obliterate the faction that had clung to the wall and trim around the window and decide that I wanted to paint the basement window trim anyway. Our eyes meet and I make a slicing motion across my neck. We both pause to regroup. She quietly reaches the light switch and turns it off.
In a whisper she says “they’ll fly back to the window to get the light.” She’s a strategic genius. I’m amazed that my DNA has produced such a wicked clever combat strategist. We both pause, allowing our enemy to evaluate their losses and regroup. I’m pretty sure that’s part of the Geneva convention rules of warfare.
It appears that we have taken out a full third of their forces. And they’ve been slowed considerably. They are tired and sluggish from their efforts. Without a word I raise my weapon and Maddy winks at me as we wade back into the battle. I smear 3 with one blow across the window pane and Maddy take out 5 with one blow to the sill. At this moment, they retreat into the bowels of the basement. We sprint down the stairs in pursuit and they disperse amongst the 3 windows in the basement. I bellow “ABBEY!!! JAMES!!!!” calling in my reinforcements. I will not fall to a simple divide and conquer strategy.
Abbey’s face appears at the top of the stairs, confused. “Grab a magazine and roll it up, you take the south east window, and kill every flying thing you see there. James, come here, take this magazine and you hit this window as hard as you can until all the bugs are gone. I’ll give you a sticker for every bug you kill.”
Abbey rolls her eyes. “Do I look like a compass, speak in regular language please. Southeast window? God. I will just use the compass on my phone.” and she abandons the cause to go find her phone. So it’s just the three of us, tackling the enemy on 4 fronts. But we are fierce and I like our odds.
The battle lasts only a few more minutes, and the three of us regroup. We are sweaty and flushed from the effort, and the bodies of our enemy litter the floor of the basement. The walls are smeared in their blood and wings and James’ eyes are a little more crazed than I’d like, but hey, the kid is gonna get 10 stickers. Who wouldn’t be pumped?
We high five each other and walk away from the basement battlefield.
I opened the door and picked up the pile of laundry that had accumulated at the top of the stairs, and my oldest exclaims “What the heck is that???” I turned to follow her finger and found myself eye to eye with a swarming black mass of insect bodies covering the window. I stepped slowly away from the window and dropped the laundry. Flies. Everywhere. But just on that window. I hadn’t seen them anywhere else in the house, until we opened the basement door.
“Mom, where are they coming from?” Maddy asks as we stand there paralyzed by the spectacle.
“I don’t know, but shut the door so we don’t let them into the house.” I instructed.
“Mom, get the fly swatter, we can kill them.”
“Who has a fly swatter? No one buys those things. Hang on.” I dash out the door and close it behind me. Leaving my first born trapped in the basement with what may very well be the beginning of a serious poltergeist event in my house. I reminisce on the first time I threw her in harm’s way when she was just a mere 4 months old and I was too paralyzed by my fear of bats to rescue her from the dining room where the rabid vampire bat was swooping round her head. (At least I’m consistent I reassure myself.) I scoop up the issues of Sports Illustrated I’m behind on reading and head back to the basement.
“Here! Take one of these and roll it up. We’ll smack them down with this.” Maddy takes the Lebron championship cover issue and rolls it into what will be noted in the homicide report later as the blunt object of mass destruction. I roll up my own.
“Okay. 1-2-3 GO!!!!!” I shriek and land the first blow. It takes out 2 and the angry black iridescent beasts abandon their posts on the window and begin flying in the direction of the attack. I feel their bacteria covered feet and wings brushing my skin. I hold my breath and duck low in an evasive maneuver. I swing the magazine wildly over my head and I think I can hear their little foul epithets as I fell several more members of their brethren. I open my eyes and see that Maddy has managed to obliterate the faction that had clung to the wall and trim around the window and decide that I wanted to paint the basement window trim anyway. Our eyes meet and I make a slicing motion across my neck. We both pause to regroup. She quietly reaches the light switch and turns it off.
In a whisper she says “they’ll fly back to the window to get the light.” She’s a strategic genius. I’m amazed that my DNA has produced such a wicked clever combat strategist. We both pause, allowing our enemy to evaluate their losses and regroup. I’m pretty sure that’s part of the Geneva convention rules of warfare.
It appears that we have taken out a full third of their forces. And they’ve been slowed considerably. They are tired and sluggish from their efforts. Without a word I raise my weapon and Maddy winks at me as we wade back into the battle. I smear 3 with one blow across the window pane and Maddy take out 5 with one blow to the sill. At this moment, they retreat into the bowels of the basement. We sprint down the stairs in pursuit and they disperse amongst the 3 windows in the basement. I bellow “ABBEY!!! JAMES!!!!” calling in my reinforcements. I will not fall to a simple divide and conquer strategy.
Abbey’s face appears at the top of the stairs, confused. “Grab a magazine and roll it up, you take the south east window, and kill every flying thing you see there. James, come here, take this magazine and you hit this window as hard as you can until all the bugs are gone. I’ll give you a sticker for every bug you kill.”
Abbey rolls her eyes. “Do I look like a compass, speak in regular language please. Southeast window? God. I will just use the compass on my phone.” and she abandons the cause to go find her phone. So it’s just the three of us, tackling the enemy on 4 fronts. But we are fierce and I like our odds.
The battle lasts only a few more minutes, and the three of us regroup. We are sweaty and flushed from the effort, and the bodies of our enemy litter the floor of the basement. The walls are smeared in their blood and wings and James’ eyes are a little more crazed than I’d like, but hey, the kid is gonna get 10 stickers. Who wouldn’t be pumped?
We high five each other and walk away from the basement battlefield.
Your funny! I always laugh when you post. I laugh with you, for you, at you!thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteYour funny! I always laugh when you post. I laugh with you, for you, at you!thank you for sharing.
ReplyDelete