My husband, the hunter.
We came home from our little overnight trip to Columbia to find hundreds of house flies in our kitchen. Or at least one hundred. I have no idea how they got there. It's like something laid eggs somewhere and they all hatched at once.
Seeing them, I made myself some cereal for lunch, pitifully called for Jeff, pointed at the window where they all sat, and left the room. I can hear him in there now hitting them with a rolled-up newspaper.
Feels sort of like it might have felt in caveman times (if there ever were such a thing). The interaction would have gone something like this: "Me eat. You hunt." Although I guess the animals might have been slightly larger.
Seeing them, I made myself some cereal for lunch, pitifully called for Jeff, pointed at the window where they all sat, and left the room. I can hear him in there now hitting them with a rolled-up newspaper.
Feels sort of like it might have felt in caveman times (if there ever were such a thing). The interaction would have gone something like this: "Me eat. You hunt." Although I guess the animals might have been slightly larger.
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