Last night I slept in a hotel. I had a bunch of weird dreams, which always happens when I don't sleep in my own bed. I don't recall what most of them were about, but when I woke up I told Tim something like, "I had a dream about this fly who bit you. Then he tried to bite me, and I was running around everywhere ..." It was kind of funny, since I hadn't seen a fly all summer.
Anyway, today we returned from our trip. I was proud of Rain, who had demonstrated excellent behavior the entire time. I expected her to wail during the car trip and have difficulty sleeping in the hotel, but neither was the case. Still, when we arrived home, I was tired. I got in bed, nursed Rain, and drifted off to sleep before I was the wiser. Fifteen or twenty minutes must have passed. I woke up to Rain whimpering.
"Come on, Baby," I cooed, "please go back to sleep. Mommy's very tired." I snuggled her and closed my eyes again. A few minutes later, Rain was crying. My eyes were dry, and sleep was a blink away. "Please, please, Rain," I begged, "go night-night." I tried to sleep, but every few minutes, I would wake up to Rain fussing. I hadn't slept well the night before (that's a story for another time), and I could feel annoyance rising up in me.
Tim came in to try to soothe Rain, but no dice. Finally, Tim left to take care of a few things, and Rain and I were left to suffer in bed together. She wouldn't take a pacifier, and I knew she wasn't hungry. Her diaper was clean, so I said, "Honey, it's nap time, so we're going to nap." Just as I was about to close my eyes again, I spotted something on her forehead. It was red. I wiped my eyes and looked closer. It was a bump, a definite bite.
Something flew by my ear, buzzing as it went. "Another mosquito!" I thought, and ran for the swatter. "I'm sorry, Baby," I told Rain. "Mommy didn't know, but now she'll go get that bug!" Rain smiled at me, as if happy I figured out the problem.
I heard buzzing again, but this time behind me. I whirled around but saw nothing. I closed the bedroom door, so the mosquito would be trapped. I waited. I circled the room several times and finally decided to wait in bed for it. With swatter in hand, I kept guard. A minute later, the nasty thing flew by. Was it a mosquito? Nope. It was ... (drum roll) ... the black fly! The one from my dream!
I was horrified. Not only had I never seen a black fly (which according to my husband, are commonplace in the northeast), I didn't even know flies could bite. They actually tear flesh open to feed! The flies we have in Texas are puny little things that we shoo away from watermelons and hotdogs. I didn't realize our flies were the runts of the fly species. Black flies, and their bee-sized behinds, have apparently migrated south, because one was flying around in my bedroom.
I swatted at it with all my might and could not kill it. I trapped it behind the mini blinds, and still, he avoided me. I smacked at him as he crossed the bed to Rain. He disappeared. I thought I had killed him, but I found him crawling along on the floor underneath the bed, waiting for me to give up the hunt. I had to vacuum him up with the wand, for crying out loud!
So, to those of you causing global warming (us) and therefore making black flies move south towards innocent people (me), I demand that you (me) stop your Earth-breaking habits. To black flies everywhere: I frown upon global destruction, but I have no qualms with insect extinction.
Follow-up: Tim thinks that there's nothing supernatural about my nightmare fly becoming a reality. I think he just doesn't have enough imagination.
No comments:
Post a Comment