Thoughts Are a-Buzzin'

Seven minutes ago a fly landed on my glasses. On my face. Only at that distance, which is the distance only the Handy Man is allowed to get to my face, it looked like some enourmous bug. Or spider.
And we've already discussed the effect of spiders on my person.

Yes, I jumped up, threw my glasses on the bed and did the "there's-a-bug-in-my-hair" dance. Sadie and Noah looked at me like they thought I was crazy.
"What's wrong Mom?" they both laughed.

Why are you on my bed? Go away children, Mommy is having a breakdown.

I discovered it was a fly because two minutes ago, it landed on my nose.

Honestly.

Something happens to flies this time of year. The inside flies are a bit crazy and schizophrenic. There's one in the bathroom that flies around as fast as it can, smacking into the mirror. Pretty sure he thinks it's his evil twin and he's trying to kill him. I think it's because they know all their friends on the outside are getting hit by near-freezing temps, and they're, well, dropping like flies.

Did you ever see the movie The Fly? Grossest. Movie. Ever. I can't even look at Jeff Goldbloom without thinking about him pulling out his teeth and putting them in the bathroom cabinet. ew.

BZZZZ

It's been a long week, my friends. I'm happy it's the weekend. Also, in six days, I'm going for a kid-free weekend with the Handy Man. I think some relaxation is in order.

Anybody seen the flyswatter?