The Freelance Retort: The Fly and I

I have a fly in my house

I think he’s left over from the summer.

No, he’s not a pet and I don’t call him anything, other than annoying.

And I know he’s the only one.

There’s not a fly tag team or anything that follows me around in shifts.

It just seems that way.

He’s in every room.

Just one friggin fly who goes everywhere I go.

At first I thought it was amusing, but then I found him using my toothbrush.

Yeah….

Right?

Do I go around using the fly’s toothbrush?

I don’t think so.

Anyway, I have this fly and I can’t get rid of him.

I’ve even left the windows open hoping he would take the hint and scoot.

Actually, he did once.

Then he came back a half hour later.

But he did bring snacks.

Granted they were just Frito crumbs and something gooey… but hey, he’s a fly.

So in that way he’s a thoughtful fly.

I’ve had other flies here in the past that have never brought me anything…other than bad attitudes.

And there’s nothing worse than having a fly in your house with a bad attitude.

Like, I made him come in here.

Like, I’m the one who can’t tell an open window from a shut one.

Like I’m the one who buzzes off, when someone’s merely trying to point you to an open doorway.

Like I’m the one who swatted you with a fly swatter, but only winged you so that now you can only fly on an angle.

Well, yeah, okay.

I did do that, one time.

But that’s what happens to flies with attitude.

This particular fly, the one residing with me now, is actually okay, attitude wise.

Along with bringing snacks, he never complains about what we’re watching on TV.

Unless it’s the Food Network, which he claims makes him a little antsy.

And to a fly, feeling antsy is not something to aspire to.

Truth be told, flies kind of look down on ants.

They refer to them as common crumb grubbers.

I told the fly that I thought that was kind of a harsh assessment for a fly to make about anybody…especially given their penchant for lighting on just about anything they see lying around…and I mean anything.

The fly just looked at me, with disdain and said, “What…you think we don’t wash?”

To, which I kind of took a step back and said, “Well, to be honest I never really thought about it, one way or another.”

The fly flicked his wing in my direction. “Of course you don’t think about it. People never think about it. Who cares about a fly, unless it’s buzzing around your head, or worse, gets into your house.”

“Or talks too much….”

The fly shot me a look through one of its multiple fly eyes, that said…why do I even bother with humans.

“Okay”, I said, now feeling a bit sorry for berating the fly…and his hygiene. “As flies go, you’re one of the ‘good flies’.

“You’re darn right, I am. Do you think it’s easy carrying all those Frito crumbs in here?”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“And do I buzz your ear?”

“Nope….”

“Sleep on your nose?”

“Not once.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Uh, you’re a fly…in my house…buzzing around my house…for days now.”

‘Yeah, Einstein…I’m a fly…what else am I supposed to do…the laundry…the dishes?”

‘Well, that would be—”

“Stop…please…spare me your dim witted, wise cracks. I’m a house fly, not a dragon fly.”

“Dragon flies do dishes?”

The fly just rolled his many eyes at me again…which I have to say, is disturbing.

“Okay, I get it,” I said. “You’re a house fly. You belong in the house…I get it.”

“Miracle of miracles,” the fly remarked.

“You can stay, as long as you like. The spider stays in the basement all winter, maybe you can bunk with him.”

“Really…you think I’m the kind of fly that would lie down with spiders…really?”

“Well, I—“

“ You don’t know anything about me at all, do you?”

I was getting a little exasperated now, as I tend to get after a while in all these conversations I have with insects and weeds.

“Okay, fine. Make yourself at home. Have your run of the place…just try and stay off the food.

“I’ll try…but no promises…I am a fly after all.”

“And I don’t want you dragging any of your fly friends in here when nobody’s home. The last thing I need is to find a bunch of little fly pizza boxes all over the place.”

“Deal….”

And with that, the fly and I came to an accommodation.

I don’t bother him…and he continues to bother me.

Hey…It’s a fly…not a golden retriever…..

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