I hate flies

I've mentioned this before.

But it's still true: I really hate flies.

Recently a fly got trapped in the bathroom and I was trying to kill it before I went to bed. I spent at least twenty minutes whacking the mirror, the shower door, the walls, and plain old air with a rolled-up magazine.

Finally I managed to knock the fly down, and fortunately, it landed in the sink where I could wash it away. I watched it trying to swim, waving its nasty little fly legs in vain as it swirled down the drain.

Ha! I thought. So long, sucker!

I went to bed in peace, knowing that fly was in its watery grave.

The next morning it was back! I have no idea how, but it had crawled up out of the drain sometime during the night and was sitting in the bowl of the sink, quite still. I couldn't believe it!

I ran the faucet again, and once again it tried to swim as it slowly sank down the drain. Ha! I thought again.

The fly had been a valiant opponent, but it was no match for an intelligent mammal like me.

Or at last that's what I tell myself.

(above image from www.zazzle.com)