So, there have been three big fat flies around our house just buzzing around and driving me nuts. I finally caught one in Austin‘s measuring cup that he uses to make London mules. He uses it to measure out the simple syrup, so it is filled with sugary stickiness, and a big fly was in it. I took the measuring cup and dipped it into a basin of water in the sink and held it there trying to drown the fly, but I was starting to feel guilty about murdering a fly. So I got a sponge and just smashed the fly on the side of the cup, so I was telling Austin the story…
Austin, horrified: Did you wash my measuring cup after that.
Me: Of course. You know me.
Austin: I do know you. That’s why I’m asking.
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