Saturday, June 23, 2012

The Night I Almost Killed My Metal Chicken

How is it the tiniest of gnats can outmatch a kitchen dishtowel and a five foot seven human? I’ll tell you. Gnats must be some kind of super bug. Every time I go near my kitchen sink I see them. Flying around smugly, over my sink, around the kitchen. Not a lot. Just a few. I swat at them, think I have solved the problem, and move on with my activities. But after a few of these incidences, I began to feel like the ne’er do well in a cartoon. The bumbling one who always insists that he sees the Pink Panther or some other character that no one else can see. Or like Gladys Kravitz, always screaming for Abner to come see the witch and magic happenings on her street. Only to have it all disappear just in time for any and everyone else to arrive and not believe her.

Sitting on my kitchen counter, my poor Beyonce-wanna-be chicken bore the brunt of a few choice swats. I was pulling the shredded towel strings from her wiry beak, and that’s when I started to think I had a problem. If the chicken is in danger, things are going downhill. I snap my towel. I wash some dishes. I see another one. I squint, knowing if I hold very still, the million mega-seeing eyes bugs possess will not even perceive my breathing. Then I can go in for a fast thwap! Of the towel and rid my kitchen of these invaders forever. Ha, ha, ha.

Then I discovered a small congregation of them on my soap dispenser. Finally, I figured out what the source of the problem was. It’s bad my friends. It’s gotten so that the most miniscule speck of dust snaps my head any direction. My scalp and skin itch when I miss. My subconscious (or not) is sure they are coming to rest on me instead of the shutters or counter, just to add insult to injury.

In one particularly embarrassing moment, I took aim at my own reflection in the counter top backsplash, certain I was about to deliver the final and victorious blow. Finally, convinced I’ve ridded myself of these creatures, I tossed my head back and closed my eyes, opening them only to find another one has decided to alight on the upper reaches of a cabinet door. What, you think my towel can’t reach that high you insouciant interloper? HA! Oh great. I’m talking to bugs. Or dust. And I have bad aim. And my neck hurts.