The Forbidden Post

Earlier today I was told in no uncertain terms that I was NOT to blog about the following.
Come on. That's like putting a candy apple (seasonal) on a dais in the middle of my bedroom and telling me not to touch it. At all. Ever. To just let it rot within its delicious candy shell. Like THAT'S going to happen.
Anyway, TM you're not the boss of ME. Plus Mh says it's "fair game" so there.

Earlier today TM decided to declare a one-man-with-tea-towel war on all the fruit flies in our kitchen. To be fair it is pretty frickin' annoying. We get rid of one food source and they move on to another. It's getting to the point where I think we should just remove all food and EVERYTHING from the kitchen for a week and starve the little F-ers out. But of course that's unrealistic -- and this is where the tea towel comes in.

At midday there was a crash from the vicinity of the kitchen (which is upstairs in our house) and Av came running down the stairs in his underwear yelling, "Dude! You're like the hulk!" and then ran into my room and said, "Motas totally just broke the kitchen window."

Now, there's something to be said for breaking a pane of glass with a tea towel. And then there's being "the Hulk of the fruit flies" for the rest of the year.

On the other hand I don't want to give TM too much flak (he feels he's being represented as disproportionately dorky on this site). The truth is, if we saw a broken window in this house out of context, we'd all probably assume it was Av's fault (no offence dude, you know it's all good). TM is probably the most stable of all of us -- not given to random, loud exclamations or renditions of 70's and 80's feel-good hits like Mh is, and not given to blood sugar-related meltdowns or bouts of marathon nagging like I am.

Plus he did kill "like eighty of them." Which, at the expense of the window, and at this point in my patience, is still a pretty good outcome I'd say.

The really funny thing about this for me is that I remember being on the phone with DE when he was chasing a fly around his kitchen -- again with a tea towel -- and did THE EXACT SAME THING.
I just have one question: What is it about men that they feel it necessary to exert the same force to kill a fly as it takes to break a f-ing window?