Newflash to no one: It's hot. Really, really hot. For me to say that, it's gotta be blazing outside. I love mid-80's summer days with a pool or a beach nearby. 100 degrees, though? That is just oppressive and unfun. Getting into my car almost made my heart stop earlier. When I got into said deathtrap, however, I was in a state I rarely, if ever, find myself: I was alone. No baby, no child, no husband, no dog. Blissfully and completely by myself. Levi is spending the day at my parents' house so I can get some things accomplished, and I cannot believe how much I am appreciating being by myself. I ran to Walmart, the library, and the Wendy's drive thru and it was glorious not having to lug the car seat in and out. Levi travels with me everywhere, and he's a chill little dude, but to just be able to run in and out in 3 minutes was marvelous.
The things I need to accomplish, besides my errands, involve eradicating our home of fleas. Either Pippa (the puppy) or Brooks (the fat, long-haired cat who recently began sneaking out of the house on clandestine missions) contracted the nasty little buggers and then shared them with the other two animals. I had an inkling when, night before last, Pippa would not stop scratching. I woke up at 1:30 a.m. to her incessant scritch-scritch-scritch and my mind starting racing. I've experienced fleas once before when I lived with my parents and they were horrendous. What do you know--when Zach got home from work at 7 he looked at Pippa's stomach and there they were. I'm shuddering just reliving that moment. I ran to the store for flea bath, flea collars, flea spray, flea powder, flea treatment, the works, and have been cleaning, washing, vacuuming, treating, and spraying ever since. Brooks had some in his long hair, and bathing him was an experience I hope never to repeat. I have symmetrical gashes on my wrists from his teeth when he went psycho-kitty and tried to kill me to get out of the tub. I swear he turned into a possessed cat from "Pet Cemetary" or something. Anyway, I don't want Levi around the spray so I sent him away with Grandma and Grandpa for a while. They love having him, and the Flea Huntress (I'm thinking of trademarking that... maybe I should mock up a suit, too?) gets a little time to herself. Alone, with three itchy animals and who knows how many heinous little creatures in my carpets and couches. We're trying everything we can shy of boarding the pets and bombing our house first, so any advice on speeding up this process would be appreciated.
It's definitely wild here these days. A bit too wild for my liking. Damnit.
Flea Huntress, out.
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