The bugs at our house don’t believe in fall. They are still out in force, denying the imminent cold.
Evan: “Ew! Fly! Yucky! Eeeeek!”
Amy: “It’s alright Evan. Flies don’t bite. I’ll kill it for you.”
Amy chases the fly until it is trapped and proceeds to squash it. With her bare hands.
Amy: screaming “It bit me! I’m bleeding! Ow-ow-ow!”
Doug and I look and tell her she’s fine. Her screaming and howling get louder. Doug takes her in the bathroom and washes the fly remains from her hands before disposing of the dead fly. Amy continues to cry.
Amy: “It hurt real bad. Daddy washed off the blood but it still hurts.”
Mom: “I think you are feeling the fly’s pain.”
Amy: “The fly doesn’t feel anything Mommy. It’s dead.”