So I spent 35-45 minutes today trying to get a fly out of my bedroom. You know it’s bad when you (I in this case) starting talking to the fly. Reasoning with it (him/her?). e.g. “Come on, the only way out is through this empty Feta Cheese container I’m holding. You know you wanna go. Just think of all the freedom, the warm weather outside, all the other flies for you to play with.”
Anyway, I finally got the fly out. It also doesn’t help that I told my wife like 9,000,000 times please not to leave the door open when she’s watering the plants in our garden as it attracts unwanted aerial guests. So now I must be in some post-fly traumatic stress or something ‘cuz I keep hearing echoes of the fly. I saw it fly away. I know there’s not another one in the house, but I can’t get that bzzzz sound out of my head.
The only solution I know of? A little rockabilly from Jerry Lee Lewis (via Big Joe Turner) Flip, Flop, and Fly.
Little Fly,
Thy summer’s play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink, and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.Report