The Fly Within Me…
This is not some clever metaphoric statement in regards to freedom or meekness or something else of a completely unrelated nature…No, it is a complete and utter literal term.
Today was an all-time low for the ol’ Blogging Mama. Today, I had an unfortunate run-in with a housefly. A run-in that will scar me for days, months, and possibly even years to come.
It was a standoff of sorts. Me with swatter and that little bastard fly that had been buzzing me all morning long. I knew it was time to squash him flat, but each time I neared him, my chance was cut short by a screaming child or his acute ability to flit away at the utmost of last seconds.
I hunted him for almost 20 minutes before he made the move to the ceiling. I’m sure his thinking was that there, I would not be able to reach him. Well little fly, my middle name isn’t ‘innovative’ for nothin’; so up on the table I clambered. There was no way he was getting away from me this time.
Slowly…Oh so slowly I positioned the swatting device, then like the agility of a bullfrogs tongue I smacked it dead!
The pure joy of that split second forced an ample and open smile upon my face.
And at that exact moment as my mouth unfastened and I was about to shriek shouts of victory to my children exclaiming that I, their Mama had got the fly…The Fly made his last move…His very last move. And that move was strait into my open mouth and down my unsuspecting gullet.
Yes, I had consumed a fly.
I tried my damndest to cough the thing back up but to no success. After some gagging I accepted the fact that I could never take back what had just happened.
Moral of the story;
Do not jump the gun when showing enthusiasm about a sought after triumph. The last laugh may end up being had, by the dead fly in your stomach.