Walking along with the kids and dog, mouth open as I spoke, I felt something hit the back of my throat.
“Yeark!” I said, and the thing jammed up in the back bit between my nose and throat. “Yearkkk!”
A cloud of small flies flitted about our heads.
“There was an old lady who swallowed a fly,” said my eight-year-old, “I don’t know why she swallowed a fly.”
“Perhaps she’ll DIE!” shrieked my six-year-old.
This is what happens when you teach them to read.