Industry

Mayonnaise wasn't on the grocery list yesterday when I went to the store, so I didn't pick any up. Michael is deeply concerned at how this will affect his sandwiches this week.
I was fixing lunch and rearranging the refrigerator this afternoon when the mayonnaise jar lept out of the fridge and rolled along the floor.

Me: This mayonnaise is suicidal, man.
Mike: That's because it's empty inside.

Mike and I experience flies in our house from time to time. We don't live in a sty, I promise.
They must hang around the door and come in when we let Sam in or out, or maybe they've discovered the Pass of Caradhras that the sugar ants use.
Who knows.

One night, there were two flies buzzing around our entertainment room which were really bugging us. They wouldn't settle down anywhere, so all we heard was the constant Doppler effect of buzzing fly wings.
I pulled out some fly paper and attached it to the lamp shade.
About an hour or so later, one flew into my empty glass and I was able to trap and smash it.
I stuck it to the fly paper in great satisfaction.

The next morning, there was still the other fly buzzing near the door. I let Sam and the fly out of the house and got ready for work. When Mike left for work, he moved the fly paper from the lamp to the door to I guess trap any flies that were attracted to sunlight.

This goes into that category "seemed like a good idea at the time".

Because when Mike gets home, he texts me:
Mike: We have a huge problem.
Me: Did we get robbed? Is the AC out again? Did Sam die? TELL ME NOW.
Mike: Sam got the fly paper caught in his fur.

The fly paper couldn't catch flies but could catch a cat.
Outstanding.

Sure enough, I came home and strapped to Sam's left side was the big nasty length of fly paper.

I guess his little kitty instincts provoked him to bat at the adhesive streamer (I admit that it was placed too close to the floor) and then maybe it fell and maybe he laid down on it.
It's not poisonous to anyone, not even flies, so I wasn't worried about chemicals but rather the way it made Sam so incredibly not cuddle-able.

Apparently oil is really good for these sorts of situations, so Mike held Sam in the sink while I lubed him up with canola oil and drew the fly paper out of his fur. Then, we shampooed him which brought back poop memories since that was the last time we had to give Sam a bath.

The following week, Sam continued to look like an oil painting on one side, so we gave him another bath with Dawn detergent.
Dawn helps save wildlife.
True story.

Sam behaved well enough in the bath. Every time we have to bathe him, he seems to understand why we're doing it and doesn't rebel but rather mourns pitifully when he's tired of being wet.

More fur, more problems,
TWS