“I’m holding a bottle of Fabreze,” my mom said in complete panic.
“Why? Does it smell musty?” I replied calmly.
In between laughter and passing out from fear she said, “No…I’ll try to spray it.”
This was part of our conversation last night. She called at around 11:30pm from her condo in Boca Raton because a gargantuan bug was taking a midnight stroll in her bathroom and she didn’t know what to do.
Not that I wished harm on the little guy, but my dad should have been there to kill it.
I still can’t believe he’s not.
Live like a fruit fly.