The scene: My living room, after The Husband has been grilling.
The players: The Husband, The Girl, The Boy, Me.
I walk into the living room to see The Husband and The Boy leaping nimbly and reaching and stretching and bypassing each other. It’s really quite lovely.
TB: No, we’re trying to kill the fly. There are two of them.
TH: I’m going to catch it. Then you’ll call me Anakin.
Me: No, I’ll call you Barack.
TH: But Anakin is cooler.
Me: But he was never the first black president.
TH: And he’s not real. Barack it is.
TB: Trying to catch the fly. There are three of them. I’m going to stab them with my Q-tips.I actually see two of the invaders.TG: Mommy, I caught one! I caught one!
The fly escapes, and all three renew their efforts. Oh the jumping, spinning, and pouncing!
The Husband finds one of those bug catchers from a kid’s science experiment kit and holds it up by the light fixture.
Me: What? Do you think the fly will just walk right into the catcher?
TH: No. I think it will fly.
It does fly – right past the bug catcher. TH slaps it and wounds it. It performs a heroic death spiral to the area rug.
The whirling dervish actually catches another fly in her net. TH jumps to the net to crush the fly with his bare hand.
At this excitement, The Boy hurls himself from the couch and crashes into The Husband, The Girl, and the net. They all stand stunned for a moment. They revive from their reverie as the last fly buzzes past them.
The Boy stabs and misses. The Girl spins and misses. In an epic slow motion worthy leap, The Husband flies across the room, swats it, while he is in midair, lands gracefully, but the fly is nowhere to be found.
The fly is no longer airborne, although we cannot find it.
Our family: 3