Mrs. Hillbilly Mom Needs To Tighten The Border

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has an issue. Surprise, surprise! Pick your jaw up off the floor.

For the last two days, there has been an unwanted visitor in my classroom. I try not to draw attention to the visitor. It's close enough to full moon time as it is. No need to give reason for distraction. Besides, I'm afraid the pupils might think this visitor is a figment of Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's imagination. But it's not.

Both days, at the end of one class period and the beginning of the next, a fruit fly gnat has dive-bombed me. How in the world is this possible? I do not think fruit fly gnats carry pocket watches to check for the proper dive-bombing time.

I know it's not the same one. Yesterday, I smashed it on my desk with my palm after waving my hands wildly around my face and head. Don't worry. I used the Germ-X immediately. Okay. I THOUGHT about using the Germ-X. That counts, right?

Today, that fruit fly gnat was Not-Heaven-bent on getting up my nostril or in my mouth or making a nest in my hair. Which does not smell like fruit. Today. It lit on my shirt, just under the collar. I must have showed the whites of my eyes like a nervous thoroughbred in the starting gate for my maiden race. I SWATTED that fruit fly gnat against my shoulder. Bingo! Death to fruit fly gnat. Except I incurred a mean pain in my neck.

I'd really like to know who the carrier is of those fruit fly gnats. I may have to set up a search station in the hall, like customs, so as not to allow any unwanted fauna into my domain.

I really hope it was a fruit fly gnat.