So there I was... trying to enjoy some very precious sleep time with my 6 month old son, Preston....You see, I don't get much sleep. Preston gets up at least 2 times a night at the very least. Lately I feel like a walking zombe. Then again, don't all new parents feel this? Well unless you are the ones blessed with a child that sleeps 12 hours straight through the night....grrrrrr.....Not my case. I'm getting grey hair from the lack of sleep.
Anyway- back to my story. I was cuddled with Preston, enjoy an afternoon snooze. At the tip of my nose, I felt something tickling me. I scratched and continued my journey towards a much anticipated slumber. There it goes again, a tickle on my arm, then chest, then ...what the hell! It was a fly that just wouldn't stop attacking me. This fly reminded me of a WWII bomber swooshing in with high speeds. Before I could kill the little beast, it would use it's cat-like reflexes to fly away. Each time this asshole would land on me, all I could think of how much fly poop and pee would be on my body. EWWWWW! Gross. And then I began shielding poor Preston, in fear he was the next target. So here I am crouched around him, with a pillow over my head, covers surrounding our bodies, praying that sleep would someday find us. Well it did Preston but not me. Grrrrr...damn fly.
Here it is the next day and I spot that same freak'n fly...oh your ass is mine little insect.....
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