We have a fly problem here in Georgia. They are almost as bad as the gnats here. I even hung one of those smelly bags that is supposed to lure the flies to it (it's filled with some disgusting blob of what I assume is rotting meat and you add water to it to really bring out the stench) on our deck. Let me go back and tell you that I first hung it in my laundry room, before I realized the stench that it let's off. We'll just say the door was open for a long time (letting in yet more flies!) and I used ALOT of Lysol. Now, back to the original idea for the post. These flies.
I hate a fly. I really do. They sit on poop. We have two dogs, so they sit on alot of poop around here. They buzz around you. They sit on your sandwich (after they sit on poop). They spit on their food. They serve no purpose. Except to gross me out and make me curse. So I walk around all day with a fly-swatter saying "Damn flies!"
This morning I realized I should not be so verbal about my hatred for the flies as Sam (who is 4) was walking around the dining room table saying "Damn flies!". Score one for me.
I still hate a fly though.
xoxo
sue
Ooo! You have a Sam, aged four, also. It seems like since he used the 'damn' appropriately, everything should be fine, right?
ReplyDeletePretty freaking awesome...;)
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