Last night, I was giving the kiddos a bath after a long, sweaty, sticky summer day in the yard. Princess had been rolling in the grass (yay) and landed her thick, dark hair on a very hectic anthill which resulted in a very tickly head of hair. After shaking them out of her hair amidst squeals of death, Chubs decided to run down our mossy hill and subsequently trip and face plant himself in the sandy dirt.
Usually when my kids start whining and crying in complete unison like a pair of Sing-A-Ma-Jigs I know it’s time to call it quits for the day.
So we trudged up to the tub, each of us growing more cranky as the humidity in the second floor thickened and bedtime grew near.
Finally, after what seemed like an IronMan contest of getting the tub drain to plug up, taking off muddy shoes, and capturing naked siblings who attempted to pee on the rug (again) the two munchkins were successfully submerged in the ultra soapy bathwater. I could almost hear the dirt being released from the crevices of their fingers. Ah. One of my favorite times of day.
Right when I was about to pop a squat on the kiddy step stool and zone out for a couple minutes before bedtime drama… a huge fly started zipping around the bathroom. It was a humongous fly! It looked like a grape with wings. You know those ones that you really want to squash but you really don’t because your pretty sure the splatter will have the same effect as a water balloon? Yeah, one of those.
Immediate gut reaction was to slam the bathroom door shut, thus closing the fly in. Scary thoughts of the giant grape fly trapped one of the kids room and landing on them during the night passed through my mind. Flies that big must have ingested some serious amount of garbage and I was not about to let it contaminate my babies!
The fly had to die.
"Get it Moms!"
Princess screeched each time the grape fly zipped pass my head and back toward the toilet in a wicked, fast, circular motion. (She calls us "Moms" and "Dads" now….? I don’t know why either)
I took off my flip flop and started whacking aimlessly and missing ridiculously as the nemesis zipped faster and closer to my face. It was getting mad, you could tell because I few times it skimmed the top of my head letting that loud "buzzzzzz" ring in my ears. I jumped up and down screaming.
"Get it Moms!!!!" Princess coached.
Each time it made a loop she’d cheer, "There it is!" or "He’s coming!".
Chubs wanted to join in the action, and taking advantage of "Moms" being distracted, began to pour bucket fulls of water on the tile floor. Why do I let them play with a bucket in the tub, anyway?
Now the screeches consisted of "Get it Moms!" and me yelling back, "I’m trying!" and intermittently "NO WATER ON THE FLOOR!" and then a huge taunting ‘bzzzzzzz" from Senor Grape fly. All in a 4×4 bsthroom space.
I always read about people "seething" in books, but now I can say for sure that I was definitely seething. And to boot, I was breathing heavily because of all the humidity in the bathroom. I absolutely could not fail in front of my cheering squad. The fly was going down.
I tossed my flip flop on the floor.
"That does it. Time to bring out the big guns."
I grabbed the icon of Our Lady of Guadalupe off the wall, it was on a big piece of wood, about the size of a piece of computer paper.
"C’mon Mama Mary, let’s get this over with"
I heaved a martial arts movie "hi-yaaaaaaaaaa" and waved the icon with all my might when the fly came zooming my way.
All of a sudden I heard a "ping". And then there was silence.
My eyes widened in crazed success, "I think we got it! I THINK WE GOT IT!"
"Yay we got it!" Princess splashed her excitement.
Chubs laughed and dumped and extra bucket of water on the floor for good measure.
"Wait. But where is it?"
The fly was nowhere to be seen. I looked all over the bathroom, behind the toilet, by the trash can. But it was nowhere. I knew it had to be somewhere because it definitely wasn’t flying around anymore.
"Where’d it go Moms?"
Princess hung her chin over the edge of the tub searching. As I looked up at her, horror gripped my body as I saw the grape fly floating right behind her in the tub.
"Do NOT MOVE! and DO NOT drink that water!"
I grabbed her tea cup out of her hand, scooped up the victim and flushed it down the toilet.
"Ewww" I moaned as I re-rinsed them and took them out of the tub.
The door flew open and Camera Guy stepped in,
"What the heck was…."
"There was a huge fly. But I got it!-"
-"And it was swimming in the tub" Princess cut me off.
We all sloshed through the temporary river that our floor had transformed to and out into the hallway. Camera Guy was impressed that I got the fly (it’s been almost a decade since I last killed a fly) and glad nobody was hurt. I guess it sounded like a wrestling match from downstairs.
I credit it all to Mama Mary. It had been a good five minutes of missed hits until I geared up with the icon. All it took from her was one good whack and that festering, ball of biohazard was kaput. Albeit in the tub with the very kids I was avoiding it being near, but still dead nonetheless. Now that’s one super victory for some super fly mom!