Monday, September 22, 2014
The infestation is, of course, entirely Nathan's fault since he was the one responsible for administering the dog's flea preventative treatments (and ensuring that they were up to date, which I suspected they weren't).
Naturally, I did the worst thing possible...I started looking up information on the internet. The information I read sent me into a mild panic because I was now concerned the entire house may be festooned with the little parasites (and the idea of flea bombing the apartment was not especially appealing). Anyhow, Nathan and I both needed to dash off to catch the train so we decided we'd discuss what to do later.
Once we boarded the train and took our seats, I began telling Nathan about the hassle we would need to go through to get rid of the infestation from the apartment. I could tell – as all attentive partner's can – that he thought I was being a drama queen.
But then, something miraculous happened. Right on cue, a tiny flea larva crawled across a paper bag I was bringing to work. I gently picked up the larva with my index finger to show Nathan. And just as I was holding the tiny little thing and positioning my finger so that Nathan could get a better look, it launched itself from the tip of my finger onto Nathan's jumper. The demonstration worked perfectly...Nathan spent the afternoon washing the dog and cleaning the house.