Oh No!

Guess what Eli, there is no Santa Claus.

Nunchuck skills

There are certain skills that can be very helpful to people as they make their way through life. Some of these skills include, but are not limited to, cooking, decorating, organizing, tact, outdoor instincts, music, carrying ice trays without spilling the water, and being nice.

I have none of these skills.

Instead, my skill set includes, and is limited to, picking things up with my toes, strong hands, killing flies with towels, loud voice, hearing cell phones ring above the din, smelling natural gas leaks, eating large quantities without getting sick, and making up lies.

These impractical skills are not ones you would put on a resume. When you are in college, and have no practical skills, it makes sense to choose an impractical major, like English. That way, when you graduate, you have no direction. I will forever be pursuing a way to use what I learned when reading Bleak House or Emma. So far, writing a blog is as close as I can come. Too bad no one will pay me for such an action (if they did, I would not earn much).

I will likely always be doing the things that come unnaturally to me. Every time I clean my house, I have to give myself a pep talk before I start. I wish I would exercise, but no pep talk in the world seems to be able to accomplish that.

In the meantime, I will work hard to sharpen the skills I have, sniffing out gas leaks, and speaking loudly. Also, I forgot to mention, I can make a great grilled cheese with sandwich meat and sliced tomato. Maybe I can dream of selling those while following Bette Midler to Las Vegas (are you with me Adriane?).

I would also like to add a small list of my pet-peeves/dislikes: the sound of a dishwasher running, butterflies, lady bugs, dirty ears, using the microwave, and spaghetti.

Flies in the buttermilk... shoo, shoo, shoo

This week, Mark had two of his students that live in the neighborhood come to visit. Mark invited them in and they talked for about 20 minutes. I, meanwhile, was in the kitchen feeding Eli his dinner. I noticed that the door was still open while they talked. I wanted to tell them to close it, but I didn't want to be that crabby wife that yells, "Close the door!" So, I let it slide.

This proved to be a grave mistake.

There must have been a bulletin that went out to the local flies saying, "New condo, great location, free food". I started to hear the annoying buzzing sound of an approaching swarm.

Here is the part that I must mention to you that I have an extreme talent. I can kill a fly anywhere, anytime. I have this method that rarely fails me. I take a towel and I stalk the fly. When he lands, I use my left hand as a decoy (distraction) for his million eyes to focus on and then I use my right hand to showcase my incredible fast-twitch muscles and whip him. This usually stuns or disfigures the fly. It is important that you are able to locate him on the floor and dispose of him before he gets his wits about him and attacks again.

With one or two flies in the house, the fight is quickly over - I win. But on this particular day (and the morning that followed), I was outnumbered. There were no fewer than eleven flies killed in the house that day. It was a gruesome scene with legs and thoraxes (do ants have a thorax) scattered. Just when I would declare myself the winner, a friend would fly by me. I couldn't believe it. I knew they weren't coming back to life because I flushed every one of them (a gross misuse of the gallons of water with each flush). The second to last fly (number 10) got the full extent of my rage poured on him. I slapped him so hard with my "super-towel" (as Ariana calls it), that his butt literally fell off. He was still able to crawl around on the floor. I flushed him and his butt down the toilet.

While I may have a soft spot for animals, this in no way reaches to insects in my house, least of all a fly.

Here lies the remains of eleven "good" flies that came to die due to blunt force trauma followed by a burial at sea.