Pest control

The Southerner started complaining about fleas in our house about a week ago.  I didn’t pay much attention to him since that’s kind of what I do when he complains about things that don’t affect me. Just because he’s a flea magnet doesn’t mean we had an actual problem, right?  Until this weekend.  Every time we went out to the backyard, even for a few seconds, we returned covered in FLEAS.  FLEAS.  I hate them.  They’re parasites. Blood-sucking scum of the earth. While driving to school this morning, I almost swerved off the side of the road when I noticed a flea gorging itself on my inner arm.  I am walking around with fleas on me. That is just not attractive.  In fact, that is probably the exact opposite of attractive.

Yesterday, in an attempt to take back our house, the Southerner bought outdoor and indoor flea killers, while I vacuumed and cleaned every square inch of exposed living space.  We also spent the better part of the day playing a game that involved seeing how many fleas we could catch and successfully drown in a cup of water while yelling things like, “I got you, you mother-fucker!” and “Drown, bitch, drown!”  Aren’t you glad we took one another off the dating market?

We don’t have pets, unless you count the snake that lives in a bush in our yard and the zillions of outdoor lizards that occasionally make their way indoors, so I can’t explain our flea phenomenon.  Except to say that South Florida is a breeding ground for insects and crazy-ass wildlife, including things like bobcats.  A girl in my class has a bobcat that likes to hang out in her backyard.  I would not be cool with this.  As it stands, the snake and I are barely managing to maintain a healthy, neighborlyish relationship built on the understanding that as long as he keeps to his side of the yard, I will not have the Southerner hit him over the head with a shovel.

South Florida is also a wonderful place to grow wildlife, and this weekend my cherry tomatoes started to ripen.  Except, every time I wanted to eat one, I had to go running outside at full speed, snatch one really quick, turn around, and run back in before the fleas attacked me.

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