…the message i got from Elin this morning said. Somewhat cryptic if you hadnt seen the mass grave of maggots in our living room this morning.
Anyone that knows us (that would be everyone reading this blog) know that we have been pretty unlucky when it comes to crawling, flying, running, screaming animals infesting every place we’ve lived in since we moved here.
This time it cant be blamed on anyone else than us though, something in the garbage bin had gone bad and when I was about to change it yesterday it was crawling with maggots (yes, I want to throw up writing this). I killed (most of) the ones that escaped and then, white as a sheet, huddled in a corner until Elin came home and saved the day with cockroach spray.
My dreams have been infested with maggots and I still feel a bit weak in the stomach. I’m trying to think of it as an american movie, you know, the two girls fighting for survival in the big city jungle fending for themselves without men. A bit like modern, grown up Pippi Longstockings killing maggots wearing designer shoes. Except for the fact that I stood shaking in a corner when Elin came home. One Pippi Longstocking and one spineless Annika.