I was upstairs typing something. At some point I became vaguely aware of a WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP etc. from downstairs. I didn't bother to question what it might be. It could be anything.
WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP WHAP
Young daughter appeared at my elbow, jarring me from my typing. She held a purple plastic fly-swatter shaped like a butterfly. It had obviously seen recent action.
"There was a million queen ants in the kitchen, and I had to smush them."
"Oh," I said.
"I had to do it, because you're lazy."
I have spared you all a visual of the breakfast nook window. Easily a million.