Genocide

Yes, I must confess to committing genocide.  Now, I know that this blog has been dedicated to fighting mice but I think it needs to be about battling nature in many forms.  Today you are getting the first installment of a subject not centered around mice.  

Yesterday, I was out running all over with my mother and grandmother.  After errands were done, I needed to take my grandmother home to take a nap. My grandmother lives with my parents so that means she lives about one hundred yards away from us.  After dropping Grandma at her house, I went home to finish a few things before I needed to run pick up my kids.  I was sitting at my computer (the computer is located in my bedroom) and noticed a buzzing sound.  I looked around and saw no fewer than 26 large black horse flies attempting to fly out the closed windows.  They were EVERYWHERE!  

Two flies beating their wings - they eventually "beat" their way off the sill and onto the carpet.

 I stared at them for a few minutes and did my best to count how many were there.  26 was my best guess since the little buggers kept flying around.  Well, I may be a coward when it comes to disposing of dead mice but I am no coward when it comes to ending the life an unwelcome insect.  I first thought to run get the fly swatter.  I then took a second to picture myself running around madly swinging the swatter in almost convulsive like maneuvers as I tried to kill each and every fly.   I rethought my plan in an effort to maintain some dignity.  

I  made a decision to join a long line of women assassins. Perhaps you are familiar with the most common method of committing murder used by women?  Well, if not, I won't keep you in suspense.  Women are much more likely to use poison to kill their spouses then any other method.  I had this thought as I ran to the pantry and thought, why not?  I grabbed the bug-poisoning spray and headed back.  Upon returning to my bedroom, I proceeded to literally cover my windows with bug spray.  After I hit them with the poison, the flies started to fall and beat their wings very fast.  I was witnessing their last grasp at survival .  Most of the flies fell into the metal track on the windows  so for the next minute or so, I listened to this intense vibrating sound as the fly's beating wings repeatedly hit the metal.  At last, silence and genocide was complete.

One of the few who died in comfort on the carpet.