We started a garden last year and this year we decided to take it a step further by composting. Use it to enrich the garden soil, less waste, be green- it sounded like a good idea all the way around and it actually has been going pretty well.
To save us the trek from the kitchen to the compost bin to the backyard every time we had some veggie scraps, my husband brilliantly found an under the sink compost bin. There was some debate as to whether or not you can actually compost in the thing or if it is just meant to be the stop before the actual compost bin (with me being in the former camp, although that doesn't really matter now since the argument has been firmly laid to rest). We've been faithfully using for a couple months and we empty it out every couple of days.
Until last week... In my misery with the week long stomach bug, the only time I could be dragged into the kitchen to look at food was when my poor boys begged for food and, even then, I tried to send them into the pantry themselves to get their own snacks.
I think I even forgot we have a compost bin. Then, as I was feeling better, came the renewed obligation to feed my family healthy meals; essentially no more unwrapping something and maybe microwaving it or dollar menu. Think the four and two year olds were disappointed though since that meant the return of the veggies. After one such veggie laden meal, my husband was cleaning up and started to toss the scraps in the compost bin and in the millisecond the lid was open, about a thousand fruit flies discovered freedom in my kitchen.
I think my jaw would have dropped in shock except I didn't want to open my mouth for fear on would fly in.
So what did we do but immediately break out the sticky fly paper and chemical pesticides. Apparently, my commitment to being green ends as soon as there are insects in my house; ironic.
When Ethan saw the curling fly paper dangling from the knobs of the kitchen cabinets, it struck him as quite different and he giggled/guffawed and immediately reached out to touch this new, foreign thing.
The giggle was gone and the sentiment soon turned to panic as he tried to let go and the fly paper resisted with such force that you would have thought the flypaper was convinced Ethan was its bff.
So, at the end of the night, my commitment to being green was dampened, my kitchen was full of fruit flies, and I had a very sticky son.
It's been a few days since our adventure and we have embarked and a new leg of the journey called "catch the remaining fruit flies before people come over for Bible study". I'll let you know how that goes...