Little Bits of Pixie Dust

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, martini in the other, body thourougly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO, what a ride!!"

Monday, September 19, 2005

I have Fleas!!!

Or, to be more accurate, the two cats have fleas. Now, this makes me feel just a tad icky and gross. I know in my realistic mind that it has nothing to do with my ability as a housecleaner, or that I am an unfit pet mother because I let this infestation take place. But my heart, which more often than not takes a lot of presidence over my realistic mind, tells me that this problem is all my fault, that had I cleaned just a little bit better in the corners that my babies might not be suffering. It is bad, folks. Yesterday A* and I cleaned the house, scrubbed from top to bottom. Then while we are at work today there are three bug bombs going off in the house, and then we are going to give both cats a flea bath. Hopefully... * she crosses her fingers * this will take care of the problem. The other day I was scratching Belle, the little princess, under her chin and a million fleas crawled all over her face. Of course, I had an emotional breakdown and cried for A* to do something. He rushed out to the store to buy some flea spray, but giving that this morning he sat down on the toilet and had six fleas crawling on his sock, I don't think that the spray did its job.
I feel dirty. I feel like I am trashy. I feel like this is a direct reflection on me, that my house has always been disgusting and the only things that even want to inhabit it are fleas. Am I being unreasonable? Yes, probably. But you try sitting on your couch while things hop into your lap... and I'm not talking about a cat. The poor babies are just itching like crazy. Buster leaps into the air at intervals, trying to get away from the little buggers. It is so sad and pitiful.
Please, don't think that I am dirty. Don't think that I live in a nasty trailer park with cockroaches. These are the only bugs that I have even seen at my house, I swear. Oh, minus the giant beetle/cricket that you can read about in my archives. But that was just random, I swear. You can come over and feel free to sit down... nothing is going to come crawling on to you except perhaps a cat.
Well... you can come over after tonight. After the bomb. After the terrorist attack on fleas. I am pulling out all the stops on this one. Take no prisoners.
I'll let you know how it turns out.


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