Yesterday, we discovered we had a fruit fly infestation. My husband concocted an apple cider vinegar poison which knocked a lot of them off. But they kept coming.
"Okay," I said to my husband. "These things are proliferating, and we got rid of all our fruit and vegetables. Where are they coming from?"
My husband shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he said. "But I don't like bugs in my house!"
Yeah. I don't either. I like animals, but not bugs. If these things weren't stopped, we'd have about a thousand little buzzer pets. Not good!
So we went on a search. We looked through the kitchen. There were a couple flying around, but nothing significant. We looked in the family room. None in there. Then we looked in the laundry room. That's where they seemed to be hanging out.
"Why would they be in here?" I asked. "There are no bananas in here." Or were there?
Our laundry room serves as a mud room. The kids toss their coats and shoes and backpacks in there when they come in the house. My husband noticed my daughter's pack back hanging on the hook. A bunch of fruit flies were congregating around it. Uh oh.
He opened it up. "Augh!!!!!" he yelled, and nearly vomitted. "There's a rotten peanut butter and jelly sandwich in there, and a swarm of fruit flies!" He quickly ran out of the house with that thing and tossed it in the outside garbage.
"Somebody's in trouble for this!" he exclaimed.
When my daughter came home from school today, I asked her about the sandwich in the backpack.
"Oh, yeah," she said. "We had a picnic at the lake when we went fishing, and I forgot to take it out of the backpack when we came home."
Oh, yeah. Just a minor detail. "Well, young lady," I said. "Next time, don't forget!"