Recently, a fly meandered into our house and my five year old, Colby, made it his mission to get rid of it. I sat nearby nearly in tears of laughter while I watched him (very seriously, mind you) attempt to rid our home of this pesky intruder.
This week, I thought you all might like to know how to get rid of a fly, Colby style.
Step One: Smack Talk
The fly was at the top of the wall. Colby stood beneath it, hands on his hips, staring intently up at it. His brow was furrowed in deep concentration.
“Mommy,” he said, turning toward me. “I need to get wid of that fwy.”
“Please do, Colby. Flies are really annoying,” I smiled.
He turned back to the fly shot one finger up toward the fly and said, “Hey! Hey you! Fwy! How come your mama didn’t give you a stinger?”
I wasn’t sure whether I should be horrified that he knew how to insult so easily or totally amused because he was smack talking an insect.
Regardless, the fly didn’t move. So, Colby upped the ante.
“Yeah, fwy. Where’s your stinnnger? You don’t have a stinger? Your mommy didn’t make you a bee? Why didn’t your mommy make you a bee?”
The fly was unswayed. Apparently it had already worked out its mommy issues in the past. Colby turned to me, frustrated.
“Mom, do fwies speak Engwish?”
“No, buddy, I don’t think they do,” I shrugged.
“Uno, dos, twace!” he yelled.
“I don’t think they speak Spanish, either, Colbs.”
“Do you speak fwy?” he asked and I shook my head in reply.
He left the room. The fly remained in its spot.
Fly: 1 Colby: 0
Step Two: Reinforcements
He was gone so long from the living room that I thought he had given up on the mission. I think the fly probably thought the same. Maybe it was all a part of Colby’s tactical plan: mental manipulation. When he did finally come back into the room, he was carrying reinforcements.
He situated himself, once again, beneath the fly. In his right hand, he held a stuffed frog.
“All wight, fwog, dis is it,” he pep-talked his stuffed counterpart. “You wive in a pond. You eat fwies. You hop vewy high. See dat fwy up dere? You can get it.”
He chucked the frog up to the ceiling. I watched as it narrowly missed the fly and fell to the ground.
Colby was undeterred by this unfavorable outcome. He had, after all, come prepared. Similar to the frog pep-talk, he prepped his stuffed monkey.
“Okay, monkey. You wive in a jungle. You swing vewy high on vines. You can catch that fwy.”
He sent the monkey toward the ceiling. This time, contact was made. This time, the fly took flight.
It landed several inches from its original spot.
Fly: 2 Colby: 0
Step Three: Throw In the Towel
Colby looked a little defeated when he walked over to me.
“What if I just buzz buzz tawk at the fwy?” he asked. “Can I tawk to the fwy and tell him to go away?”
“You can try, buddy, but I don’t think it’ll work.”
He gave a feeble attempt at bzzzing at the fly and sat down beside me.
“Hey, Mom?” he sighed.
“I fink we should just call the exterminator to get wid of the fwy.”
“How about we just have Daddy do it?” I suggested. “Maybe he can give you some tips.”
That perked him up.
Little did I know that Daddy would turn into a pigeon-cooing ninja fly hunter…
I guess next time, he’ll have some additional fly-exterminating tricks up his sleeve, huh?
When she isn’t giggling at her preschooler’s insect-extermination strategery, Lindsay Maddox contributes to My Life Monday on The Balancing Act’s blogging community. The rest of the week, she chronicles the insanity and hilarity of raising four small kids (including twins!) on her blog Silly Mom Thoughts.