A Tale of Two Flies

It's hard getting the girls to remember to close the door when they come inside. Specifically, it's hard getting Arielle to remember, when she runs inside to use the facilities, to close the door behind her. Which has left us with this little fly problem. Which is driving the husband absolutely crazy. It turns out he's not exactly rational about flies. The things you still learn about each other, even after years of marriage!

So, tonight, there we were at the dinner table, trying to eat while the husband flailed away at two flies. In complete frustration, completely unable to eat for thought of where those flies had been before dive bombing his dinner, the husband rolled up a newspaper section and started laying about him like the brave little tailor.

Arielle freaked. "Daddy, don't hurt the fly!"

The husband's body language immediately changed from ire to nervous shame. "I wasn't trying to hurt the fly, sweetie," he protested. "I was just scaring it."

"Don't scare it, Daddy! It's my friend!"

"But, honey," his voice tapered off. He tried again. "See, sweetie, this is why you need to close the door when you come in. The flies come in when the door's open."

"Yes," Arielle agreed. "They're hot outside, and birds want to eat them!"

I've never seen the man so disconcerted. I, meanwhile, was practically rolling on the floor, I was laughing so hard.

He finally gave up and settled for carefully waving the flies away for the rest of the meal. Arielle spent the rest of the meal regaling all of us with stories about how funny the flies were and what good friends to her they were.

I think the husband may never be the same again.