This time of year when I bring the outdoor plants inside to avoid freezing, we have an invasion of fungus gnats.
They must have evolved from a higher form of intelligence as their ability to outwit humans is unparalleled. For those who haven’t experienced the nuisance of these varmints, nothing compares with their ability to frustrate. If you believe you are going to capture a fungus gnat, you don’t know bubkes.
At first, I thought it was a floater and tried to blink it away. When it tried to fly up my nostril, I realized fungus gnats had moved in.
They are like the irritating relatives you saw as a kid at family reunions. The ones that would pinch your cheeks and say, “You look just like your Daddy’s people.” Even at a tender age, you got their message that they thought your Mama married butt-ugly. You’d wiggle and squirm to escape their grasp. Fungus gnats behave pretty much the same way.
We have white dinnerware. Who knew fungus gnats love that color?
They flock to my coffee cup like the early morning under-caffeinated to Starbucks. I take my coffee to the dining table to read the morning news. That’s when they really go nuts. The newsprint on the white paper drives them crazy. Do they believe they are seeing long-lost relatives from the old country?
Aha, I’ll fool them. I leave them to schmooze the newspaper and slink away to the computer to read the news. In a nanosecond, they unpack their bags and launch a stealth attack on the monitor. It’s nirvana; white paper, black print, and light.
I surrender and go to the bathroom to shower. Awaiting me, perched on a white towel is the fungus gnat welcome wagon. Forget about drowning them. They swim like Olympians.
I bought sticky yellow traps. The only thing that stuck to them was me. They avoid those like a kid who knows there are Brussel sprouts under the mashed potatoes.
Watching the evening news is challenging. My ambidextrous spouse manages the remote, a fly swatter and his martini without spilling a drop.
We have suspended entertaining until the plants can go back outside and we can have visitors again; the non-flying kind.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.