I sighed as I sat on the couch and looked over at my son Alex. “Well, I guess if we’re quarantined…” I stopped myself. “I mean social distancing ourselves I might as well get some things done around the house.”

“There you go!” Alex said. “Always looking for that silver lining!”

I went into the kitchen and opened up the Tupperware drawer. Inside was a jumble of containers and lids just tossed in. “I swear I just cleaned this out a month or two ago!” I cried then realized I was the one who’d been unloading the dishwasher so it was me who’d been dumping them in there. “Okay,” I began taking the containers out and stacking them on the counter. “From now on I’m going to take the time to put them away the right way.”

Once I finished the Tupperware drawer and was about to move to the silverware drawer my husband Steven came into the kitchen. “What are you up to?” he asked.

“I’m bored so I’m getting some cleaning done.” I opened the silverware drawer where I could see my unloading of the dishwasher skills were lacking there too.

“Well, if you’re looking for things to do could you sew a button back on one of my shirts?”

I looked over at Steven and closed the drawer. “That sounds better than cleaning out the silverware drawer.”

Steven looked surprised. “Really? That’s great I’ll go get it!” He went to our bedroom while I headed to the laundry room to get my sewing basket. Steven came into the room carrying the shirt. “This is perfect!” he said, handing me the shirt. “I’ve been meaning to sew it on but I kept forgetting.”

I looked for the tags inside the shirt where they sometimes put extra buttons. I could see they’d once been there but were now missing.

Steven watched what I’d been doing. “I already used the extra button a few months ago. I thought you had a jar of buttons?”

I looked at him, surprised that he’d remembered that. “I haven’t needed that button jar in years.”

I began looking on the shelves. Tucked back in the corner was a small mason jar filled with buttons. I picked it up and went into the living room with my sewing basket and his shirt.

Alex was still on the couch while I poured the buttons out of the container and onto the coffee table. “This is where the fun starts.” I said as I began sorting through the buttons looking for one that was close to matching the one on his shirt.

Alex leaned forward and began looking with me. We took turns thinking we’d found a similar button only to hold it up to the shirt and realize it wasn’t. “Where did all these buttons come from?” he asked.

“When you were little, you and your brother were pretty tough on your clothes.” I finally found one that matched. “I was always sewing a ripped sleeve or replacing a button on your shirts or pants.” I went into my sewing basket to find the matching color thread and a needle. “So when you’d outgrow your clothes I’d take the buttons off them first and that’s how my button collection began!” I waved my hand over the pile of buttons.

Alex laughed as he picked up the giant red and yellow buttons and held them up. “I’m assuming these came from an old clown costume you made me wear?”

I shook my head and laughed as I looked over at the ones he had in his hand. “I have no idea where those came from, or when I’d ever use them.” I began scooping the buttons back into the mason jar. Then I reached over and took the two giant buttons from Alex and dropped them back into the jar. “But you never know, so back they go!”

I was in the kitchen peeling potatoes when my son Alex came in. “It smells really good in here!” he said as he leaned against the counter. “What’s for Sunday dinner?”

“Mini Thanksgiving in March.” I began cutting the potatoes into smaller pieces and dropping them into a pot. “The turkey breast is already in the oven and I made the stuffing yesterday.” I pointed to the refrigerator. “Can you get the stuffing out, please. It’s time to put it in the oven.”

“Sure.” Alex opened the refrigerator and pulled out the covered pan. He pulled the foil back to take a peek. “Is this your homemade stuffing?”

“Yup, sausage and apple.” I opened the oven door and moved the turkey pan over to make room for the pan Alex was holding. “I left the mushrooms out of this batch.” I took the pan from him. “I know they’re not your favorite.”

“Hey, I don’t mind.” he shrugged his shoulders. “I just pick them out.”

I checked on the turkey that sat on a bed of carrots and parsnips along with fresh dill and parsley. I inhaled the wonderful smell that reminds me of Thanksgiving before grabbing the baster from the counter and dipping it into the bottom of the pan to suck up some of the juices. Drizzling the juices over the top of the bird I closed the oven door and went back to cutting up the potatoes.

“Are you putting turnips in the potatoes?” Alex asked as he leaned against the counter again.

“Nope. Didn’t really think about it.”

Alex looked around on the counter tops. “Did you make your pumpkin muffins?”

“Nope.”

“Are we having corn with the red peppers?”

“Nope, Spinach.” I looked over at him as I picked up the pot and went over to the sink to fill it with water. “Remember I said it was mini Thanksgiving. That mean no muffins, no pie, no turnips in the mashed potatoes.”

Alex held up his hands. “No problem. I’m good with what you’re making.”

“If I made everything I usually make on Thanksgiving then Thanksgiving wouldn’t be special would it?”

“Hey, I’m happy with mini Thanksgiving!”

Filling the pot with water I put it back on the stove and turned it on. I looked around to see if I needed anything else. “I think I’m all set.”

Alex looked around. “Who’s turn was it to pick Sunday dinner?”

“Mine.” I said as I went to the cabinet and handed Alex the plates to set the table with.

“You?” Alex sounded surprised. “It seems like a lot of work. Why’d you pick mini Thanksgiving?”

I shrugged my shoulders as I opened the drawer to get the silverware. “Because I was in the mood and no one else would be able to ask for this on their Sunday pick.”

Alex laughed. “That makes sense. I know I wouldn’t have to nerve to ask for a Thanksgiving dinner.”

Just then my husband Steven walked in the room. “Wow! It smells really good in here!”

“Mini Thanksgiving.” I said as I went to the refrigerator to get the can of cranberries.

“We can start asking for holiday dinners when it’s our pick for Sunday dinner?” Steven looked hopeful. “I’m calling mini Christmas!”

“You can always ask.” I said as I got the can opener out. Once the can was open I slipped the tube of cranberries, can lines and all, into a dish. I got some plastic wrap and covered the dish before putting it back in the refrigerator.

Alex grabbed some napkins and headed to the table. I could hear him whisper to Steven, “I’m just letting you know, I’m pretty sure Mom’s the only one who can call a holiday dinner for her Sunday pick.”

“Oh.” I heard Steven whisper back.

“Yeah! We’re moving the clocks ahead this weekend!” I sang as I did a little dance and waved my hands in the air. “It’s ‘spring ahead’ time!”

My son Alex laughed. “You’re pretty excited.”

“Oh, come on! You are too!” I went over to the stove and changed the time. “I am so done with it getting dark out so early.”

“Hey, it’s been lighter out longer every day.”

“Yeah but only by a minute a day.” I looked at my wrist watch. “This is going to be a whole hour!” I pulled out the little knob and turned it ahead. “I love this time of year!”

“Wait, aren’t you a little early? It’s Friday afternoon, aren’t you suppose to do that tomorrow night?”

“Don’t care!” I went over to the microwave. “Do you remember how to change this?”

Alex came over to help.

“You do that. I’m going to change my bedside clock.” I went down the hall to my bedroom.

“Aren’t you going to be confused all day tomorrow with the wrong time?” Alex called.

“Nope!” I came back to the living room and pointed to the cable box by the television. “I can’t change that one. The cable company does that in the middle of the night.” I smiled as I looked around for more clocks. “So, I just have to remember to look at that tomorrow if I want to know the real time.”

Alex shook his head. “I really don’t see why you don’t wait until tomorrow to do this.”

I moved on to the small mantel clock we’d gotten as a wedding gift. “I’m too excited! I can’t wait!” I turned the clock around and found the disk that you moved to change the time. Once it was finished to put the clock back on the table. “Done!”

Alex looked around and shook his head. “Okay, well you’re a day early but I guess it really doesn’t matter.”

“All I have to do is fix my car clock next time I get in it and I’m pretty sure we’re all ready now.”

We both heard the front door open.

“I’m home!” my husband Steven called.

“Hey!” I called back. “How was your day?”

“Great, but I’m starving!” he put his file cases down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Do you know when we’re having dinner?”

I shrugged my shoulder. “I guess I could start cooking now, but it’s still pretty early.”

Steven looked over at the mantle clock. “It’s already five o’clock.”

Alex started to laugh. “Actually it’s four o’clock.” Alex pointed to the cable box. “Mom’s just anxious for daylight savings time to start so she’s changed all the clocks in the house.”

Steven shrugged his shoulder. “Four o’clock, five. Makes no difference to me. Let’s eat!”

I sighed as I went into the kitchen and began pulling things from the refrigerator. Maybe I did set them ahead too early.

My son Alex and I were sitting outside on a crisp, sunny, winter day. Our faces were turned up to the sun enjoying the quiet of the late morning.

“Is that a woodpecker?” Alex asked.

We could hear in the distance the quick tapping as it hammered its beak against the tree. The noise seemed to echo in our quiet neighborhood. “I have never understood how they evolved into smashing their heads into trees!” I shook my head. “I mean, really, other birds have to be looking at them saying ‘Dude just come to the bird feeder with us! It’s simple you stand on a little ledge and the seeds just fall out!’”

Alex laughed. “I’m pretty sure they evolved so that it doesn’t hurt them. By the way they’re not smashing their heads.”

“I know it’s not their head.” I shrugged my shoulders. “But it still seems weird.” I picked up my phone and began scrolling through the internet. “Oh, they really did evolve!” I looked at Alex. “It says that when the trees evolved by growing thicker bark, woodpecker’s had to evolve to be able to hammer through it.” I looked over at Alex. “That’s pretty interesting.”

“It makes sense.” Alex said as he stretched out his legs and leaned his head back.

I continued scrolling through the site.

We could hear the woodpecker begin his hammering again.

“Is it me or is he extra loud?” Alex asked.

I was still reading the article. “It says that they aren’t always so loud. It’s when they’re establishing territories or looking for a mate. That’s when they find anything that will resonant the loudest.” I had to laugh. “It’s just not dead trees either. They’ll bang on trash cans, rain gutters, even metal roofing as long as it’s loud.”

“Poor guy.” Alex shook his head. “Having to bang your beak against a trash can just to find a girlfriend.”

“Nope.” I held up the phone. “It’s seems woodpeckers are equal opportunity mate finders, because females will also drum to find a mate.” I put my phone down on the armrest of my chair. “So, they’re both head banging crazies!”

“Wow! That’s a lot of work to find a mate.” Alex looked over at me. “Does it says how often they can hammer a day?”

I looked over at him. “Up to 12,000 pecks per day.”

Alex laughed as he picked up his phone. “You’re making that up!”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”

Alex put his phone back down on the armrest and shook his head. “Okay, I believe you, but that’s crazy!”

We could still hear the woodpecker tapping away.

Alex shook his head. “Poor guy. Could you imagine having to go through that every year when you have to look for a new mate?”

“Most woodpecker’s mate for life.” I looked over at him. “So they’ve got that going for them.”

“Oh, come on!” Alex laughed as he sat up straighter. “How many years do they live?”

“Anywhere from 4 to 12 years.” I said nonchalantly. “Larger woodpeckers have longer lifespans so they can live up to 20 to 30 years.”

Alex just stared at me. “You’re making this up.”

I shrugged my shoulders as I picked up his phone and handed it to him. “Go ahead. Fact check me.”

Alex looked at his phone for a few seconds before taking it and putting it back on his armrest. “Nah, I’m good.” he leaned back in his chair and turned him face up to the sun.

I looked back at our bird feeders where two mourning doves were pecking at the ground. “Want to know some fun facts about mourning doves?”

“Nope.” Alex shook his head. “That’s enough fun facts for me in one day.”

“I was sure hoping I could.” I grumbled as I started to type again.“I can’t do it!” I cried as my son, Alex tried to talk me through creating a web page.

“You can!” Alex patted me on the shoulder as he stood next to me. “You just have to believe in yourself.”

“You know I’m computer challenged!” I cried. I was sitting on the couch feeling frustrated as I scrolled through the directions. “I don’t understand why you can’t just do it for me?” I kept typing. “You set up my old blog account.”

“That was five years ago.” He was reading the directions on the web page. “You’ve come so far in your computer skills.”

“No I haven’t!”

“Yes you have.” His calm soothing voice was beginning to get on my nerves. “What do you think you should do next?” he asked.

I sighed as I held onto the computer mouse and ran it around the screen. “Okay, I’m going to guess I should click where it says to continue?”

Alex leaned over my shoulder again. “See? You can do this!”

“I hate when you make me learn how to do these things instead of just doing them for me.” I looked over at him. “What if I make a mistake?”

“What’s the worst that can happen?”

“My entire site crashes, I lose all my posts and I can never find them again?” Just the thought of that was making my heart race.

Alex patted my shoulder again. “Don’t worry. You have everything backed up on your computer.”

“I do?”

Alex looked concerned for a moment. “Don’t you?”

I threw my hands up. “I have no idea!” I cried.

“Okay, let me check.” Alex took the computer from me and began clicking keys. “Just what I thought. It’s saved to your Google drive.” He handed me back the computer. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Easy for you to say.” I settled back into the couch and began typing again. “How am I suppose to transfer all my posts from the old site to my new site?” I said. “Am I going to have to copy each one?” I sighed again. “This is going to take forever!” I looked at Alex hoping the pleading look on my face would have him taking the computer from me and just setting me up.

“Here let me help.” He leaned over my shoulder again and pointed to the screen.

“Yeah!” I couldn’t help but smile.

“Just press new tab.” he instructed.

I was nodding my head as I did what I was told. “Okay.”

“Now I want you to go to Google.”

“Okay.” I was so relieved that he was just going to walk me through it.

“Now type in ‘How do I transfer…’”

“Oh, come on!” I cried. “Are you serious?”

Alex started to laugh. “You can do this.” he reassured me again. “You can’t spend the rest of your life computer challenged.”

I was running late as I opened the closet door and grabbed my coat. “Have a great day!” I called to my son Alex as he came out of his room.

“Thanks. You, too.”

I went into the kitchen and reached into the basket where we keep our keys. “Oh, for the love of…”

“Your keys aren’t there?” Alex came into the kitchen.

“Oh course not!” I looked around the counter top, hoping that when I tossed them I’d missed the basket. They weren’t there. “I hate this game!” I cried as I began looking around the house.

“For someone who hates this game you sure play it a lot!” Alex laughed as he began helping me look.

I went to look in my purse. Rummaging my hand around hoping to feel the metal of the keys. I finally grew tired and flipped the purse over, dumping the contents out on the chair. No keys. “Ugh! Have I mentioned I’m late!” I cried as I tossed the purse on top of the mess. I went to open the front door.

“Do you think you left them outside?” Alex asked with a confused look on his face. “How’d you get in the house without your keys?”

I looked at the doorknob. “No, I wanted to see if I left them hanging in the lock.” I looked at Alex as I shut the door. “I only did that once.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Don’t judge me.” I said as I went to check the coffee table. “Nope.”

I stood looking around the room. “Ah ha!” I went over to the closet and began patting down my coat pockets. “Oh, come on!” I swung the door shut.

“Wow! You really wanted to play the longer game of find my keys today!”

“Not funny.” I said as I moved the pillows on the couch. “Did I mention I don’t have time for this!”

“I’ll go check your bedroom.” Alex walked down the hall.

“Thanks!” I called “I’m going to check the laundry room.” I made my way downstairs. Opening the laundry room door I flipped on the light and sure enough, there were my keys, sitting on the ironing board. Scooping them up I jogged up the stairs back to the living room. “Found them!” I called.

Alex came down the hall. “Where were they?”

I was stuffing the contents from my purse back into it. “The laundry room.”

“How’d they get there?” Alex shook his head.

“I have no idea.” I looked at my watch. “Well, there’s ten minutes I’ll never get back!” I grabbed the things I needed for work and headed for the door again.

Alex opened the door for me. “Try and have a better day.” he said as he held the door for me.

I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for helping me look.” I went out of the front porch.

“Hey, I love playing that game. Almost makes me want to hide them again!”

I stopped and swung around to look at him.

“Just kidding!” he held his hands up in a surrender. “I swear, whenever I find your keys I toss them right in the basket for you.” He slowly began closing the door. “I can tell by the look on your face that it was too soon to joke about it though.” The door was almost closed when I heard him call. “Love you!”

My son Alex walked into the living room where I was sitting on the couch lifting five pound weights in the air. “What are you doing?” he asked as he sat in a chair across from me.

“I’m toning up my arms.” I pressed the weights up in the air.

“Are you suppose to be locking your elbows like that?” Alex seemed concerned.

I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

“I don’t think that’s the way you’re suppose to be using them.” He grabbed a pillow and put it behind his head.

I put one weight down on the coffee table and began using just one to curl up to my shoulder.

Alex shook his head as he put his feet up on the coffee table. “Seriously, who showed you these exercises?”

I put the weight down. “Nobody. I made them up myself.” I felt my bicep. “I’m not too concerned about this part.” I waved my arm back and forth as I pointed under my arm. “It’s this wiggly part that’s driving me crazy!”

Alex laughed. “I’m sure there’s real exercises you could be doing.”

I reached for my phone. “I’ll Google it.” I began typing. ‘How to get rid of flab’ Wow! I didn’t even have to finish typing it went right to flabby arms!” I scrolled through several videos. “Okay, here’s one that says I’ll see a difference in one week! Can’t beat that!” I clicked on the site then sat back and watched. “Good news is, it’s only ten minutes long.” I put my feet up on the coffee table. “Yeah, even better news I don’t need the weights!”

I began listening to the chipper young girl who’d decided to film the video in what looked like her apartment. I turn the phone sideways to enlarge the picture. “I can’t believe her kitchen has no counter space.” I look over at Alex. “How’s she suppose to make a meal in there?”

Alex laughed. “Aren’t you suppose to be doing it with her?”

I looked back at the video and could hear a puppy barking. “Where’s the dog?” I asked the screen. The girl answers my question by telling the viewers that her puppy’s in the other room. “Oh, man! I was hoping to see the puppy.” I leaned back holding the phone in my lap. She moved on to the next exercise. “Well, this one doesn’t seem that hard either.”

“Why don’t you try them with her?” Alex asks.

“I’m just want to see what I’m getting into.” I look back at the video. “Is that a boombox on the floor?” I look over at Alex. “Who has one of those anymore?” I shake my head. “She doesn’t have any furniture but she has a boombox.” I’m still shaking my head.

“Any idea when you’re planning on starting the exercises yourself?” Alex asks.

“Okay, she’s getting to the end of her routine.” I could hear her panting. “Sounds like she’s a little out of breath.” I looked over at Alex. “That’s a good thing. No pain, no gain, right?”

“That’s what they say.” Alex agreed.

The video finished. “Well, that might be a good one.” I said as I clicked it off.

“Aren’t you going to try it?”

I nodded my head. “Yup. I’m pretty sure that’s the one I’ll use.”

Alex looked confused. “So…”

“Today was all about the research.” I put my phone on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. “I’ll start the program tomorrow.”

I’d just gotten back from a hairdresser’s appointment and I was in the kitchen starting dinner when my son Alex came in. “Whoa! You changed your hair color!”

“Well, I didn’t really have much to say about it.” I pulled out a pan from the drawer and put in on top of the stove.

“What do you mean you didn’t have much to say about it.” He went to the cabinet and took out a glass then went to the refrigerator to get some water. “By the way it looks nice.”

“Thanks!” I stopped and took the ends of my hair between my fingers and tipped my hair up to look at it. “I guess I’m a brunette now.” I looked at Alex. “Does it have some auburn highlights?”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. I just know you left as a blond and now you have brown hair.” He leaned against the counter top and took a sip of water. “So,” he placed his glass down. “You didn’t ask to change the color of your hair?”

“Nope. I never do.” I shook my head. “Denise looks at me when I walk into her shop and says things like, ‘Do you want to warm up your color?’ or ‘We should really tone that down a bit.’ and I just shake my head and say sure.” I went to the refrigerator and got out some burger meat. “Then she goes back in some small closet to put together my new color.” I walk over to the counter next to the stove and began making patties. I looked over at Alex and smiled. “Personally, I picture her holding a color chart where she flicks a spinning arrow to see what color I’m going to be.” I put the patties in the pan and turn on the stove. “She’s like a chemist as she mixes all the ingredients into a little bowl, comes out, paints my head, turns on a timer, and forty five minutes later I get to see what color hair I’m going to have!” The burgers begin to sizzle in the pan. “Can you get the salad out of the fridge and put it on the table?”

“Sure.” Alex goes to the fridge and gets the salad. As he was walking to to table he passes behind me. “It does look nice.”

“Thanks.”

Alex came back and leaned against the counter. “But don’t people usually tell the hairdresser what color they want to be?”

“I’m assuming yes.” I looked over at Alex. “But Denise and I have been doing this for years. She knows all I want to do is cover the gray and as long as she doesn’t pick a cartoon color we’re all good.” I took the spatula and flipped the burgers.

Alex shurgged his shoulders. “Well, if you’re happy. I’m happy.”

Just then my husband Steven came into the kitchen. “Hey, I remember when you were that color a few years ago.”

I looked over at Steven and smiled. “Denise thought it was time to warm my color up.”

Steven looked confused. “What’s that suppose to mean?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I wasn’t sure either.” I smiled as I pointed to my head. “But I guess it means this!”

I’d just gotten up and was headed to the kitchen when my husband Steven stopped me in the hallway.

“Morning.” he said giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. “How’d you sleep?”

I shook my head. “I had that same stupid nightmare again.” I sighed.

“Which one?” he looked concerned.

“The one where my only mode of transportation is an office chair.” I rubbed my eye with the back of my hand. “I swear this must be the fifth time I’ve been in the middle of a dream and I walk outside and there it is, sitting in our driveway, an ugly black office chair on wheels!” I tried to stifle a yawn. “I can’t figure out why I keep having that chair pop up!”

Our son Alex came out of his room. “Morning!” he said as he headed towards the kitchen.

“You’re not going to believe what had a cameo appearance in my dream last night.” I said as I followed him out to the kitchen.

“The office chair?”

That caught me by surprise. “Yeah! How did you know?” I got my tea kettle and went over to the sink to fill it with water.

Alex laughed. “I just heard you tell Dad.” He reached in the cabinet to get two mugs.

“Okay, that makes sense. ” I put the kettle on the stove and turned it on. “I remember the first time I had that dream.” I turned around and leaned against the counter. I looked over as Steven came into the kitchen. “I walk out of the house and there’s the office chair sitting in the driveway where my car should have been. I was late for work so I felt like I had no other choice but use it. I was so embarrassed as I wheeled myself down the street. First I tried sitting forward, digging my heels in but I wasn’t going very fast and I getting anxious because I was late. So, I turned my seat around and pushed with my legs as I looked over my shoulder to see where I was going.” I shook my head. “I remember sitting at a light watching the other people in cars just staring at me.” I gave a little snort. “At least now, when I see the office chair in my dreams, I hear myself saying, ‘Seriously, not again!’ and the dream usually ends.” I looked from Steven to Alex. “Why do you think I keep dreaming about that stupid chair?”

Steven shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “I have no idea.”

Alex put the tea bags in the mugs and placed them by the kettle. “I know why you had it last night.”

I looked over at him. “Really? Why?”

“Don’t you remember when we were out yesterday? We drove by an office chair, someone was throwing out. It was laying on it’s side by the curb?” He leaned against the opposite counter from me. “You’re always talking about those dreams so I said, ‘Looks like someone got in an accident, hope no one got hurt.’”

“Oh yeah!” I laughed as I nodded my head. “You’re right, that does explain it.” I felt better knowing what caused it. The kettle started to whistle so I turned off the stove. “But that still doesn’t explain why I had the dream the first time.” I looked at Alex as he held up his hands and shook his head.

“Don’t ask me, I have no idea!”

I looked over at Steven. “Nope, not a clue.”

“I can’t believe we’re able to sit outside today.” I said as I turned my face up to the sun. “We were driving through a snowstorm the other day!”

My son Alex was leaned back in his Adirondack chair. “It’s been pretty crazy weather.” Alex agreed. “Hey, look at this.”

I looked over at Alex who was pointing to a fly sitting on his leg. “It’s January. Pretty weird seeing a fly this time of year.”

“Everything’s confused.” I sighed. “I was driving the other day and saw a forsythia with a few blooms on it already.”

Alex shooed the fly from his leg but it just flew to another part of his pants. “This thing’s the size of a small bird!” Alex shooed it again. It flew and landed on the arm of his chair. We watched as the fly slowly hopped around until it was facing him.

I laughed. “Looks like he’s not done with you!”

We watched as the fly’s little legs danced back and forth on the arm of the chair, continuing to face toward Alex. “Well, this is creepy.”

“He looks like he’s ready for a fight.” I laughed again.

Just then the fly took off heading straight for Alex’s face.

“Whoa!” Alex laughed as it quickly landed on his face before he swatted it off. “I think I made him mad.”

I waved my hand around in case he decided to double back towards us again. “I’m sure they serve a purpose but I’m not a big fly fan seeing that they spend most of their time combing over garbage piles and landing on poop!”

“Oh, that’s a nice thought.” Alex said as he brushed the shoulder of his sweatshirt against his face. “I just had his little garbage feet dancing on my face.”

“Well, now its got me interested.” I said as I picked up my phone and Googled ‘Flies you see in the winter.’ I scrolled through a few sites. “Okay, it says that it’s probably a Cluster fly.”

“Well, that sounds disgusting.” Alex laughed.

“Wait!” I held up the phone. “Good news. Cluster fly’s are completely parasitic on earthworms!”

“What?” Alex looked confused. “How’s that suppose to make me feel better?”

“They lay their eggs near earthworm’s burrows and the larvae feed on the earthworms!”

Alex shook his head. “That doesn’t answer what the adults eat.”

I scrolled further. “It says the adults eats nectar, plant sap and fruit.” I looked over at Alex. “See

it’s all good.”

Alex looked around our stark yard. “Okay, where’s the nectar, plant sap and fruit it’s eating?”

I sighed. “Okay, I see your point. But in his defense he’s really suppose to be hibernating right now.”

“Bloated garbage feet.” He wiped his face again.

“Ahh, you named him!”