25!!!!
What's going on?? It's as if a plague of moths have descended down upon the house. They're *everywhere,* and they're super grossing me out.
Every time I turn on a light, open a cabinet, or part the curtains, a moth flies out in my face. They're on all the windows, beating their furry little wings against the glass. They're in the kitchen, the bedroom, the bathroom.
But TWENTY FREAKING FIVE moths in one room at one time is just too much. You've crossed the line, moths. This be war.
8 comments:
Oh, Lord. And in your bedroom? Yikes! How does one get rid of moths?
Here's our oh-so-scientific method:
Matt sucks them up in a dustbuster, and then sticks the dustbuster in the garage freezer until they're all dead.
Science!
ps, I just opened my toilet lid...AND A MOTH FLEW OUT.
After I crapped out on fourth-semester German, I briefly studied Arameic, so I can tell you that the so called "plague of flies" from described in Exodus (8:20–320) -- you know, Moses, Israelites, Pharoh, etc.) could actually refer to any winged insect. The word -- עָרוֹב -- is prone to different interpretations. So, I have to ask, have you and Matt been enslaving anyone? Hmmmm?
P.S. You call Matt's moth-extermination technique "science." I call it troubling. I'm pretty sure Ted Bundy started out with innovative, complicated, Rasputin-death-like ways to rid himself of household insects. Keep an eye out for escalating behavior. Do you know for sure what happened with the cat you inherited with the house?
Not moths?!?! You hate moths. I think they instinctively know you hate them. So sorry!!
That's an interesting thought, Trevor. Just yesterday, Frankie screamed "STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME YOUR SLAVE!" at me when I asked her to pick up her clothes from the floor, so I'm thinking that might possibly be the plague trigger. Either that, or I should probably take a look in the padlocked apple cellar that Matt has forbidden me to go in, Bluebeard-style.
...And I agree. Matt's method of ridding the house of moths is suspiciously diabolical. Looks like I'm going to search the backyard for freshly overturned patches of Earth. Poor Cat Bandit.
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