Every single person reading this has, at some point, waved a spatula at a fly while cooking. It’s a rite of passage in adulthood, right up there with paying taxes and realizing you have no clean spoons. So take a deep breath, set up that vinegar trap, and know that these little black jerks are temporary.
Meanwhile, I’ll be over here, staring suspiciously at my pothos plant. You know, just in case it’s plotting something.
