We’ve been keeping the backdoor open this summer for the dogs, and occasionally a fly comes in.
I’m sitting on the couch, reading my book, and a fly lands on me. Nasty. Swat it away. Then it buzzes around me head. Ugh. Wave my hand around. Then it lands on my hair. What is it about flies that make you feel like white trash when they land on you?
Is it because of that myth that “every time a fly lands, it poops?”
Is it because flies love poop, and if they like you, then you must remind them of poop?
Is it the way they rub their front legs together, like they’re planning something?
I remember the first day of 8th grade, a fly was buzzing in the air. Nobody wanted it to land on them, because then it meant you smelt bad and needed to take a shower, and who comes to the first day of school smelling like BO or turds? Will it land on the big nerd in the corner? Will it land on me, making people avoid me the rest of the year? To our surprise, it landed in the popular girl’s hair! HA! Dirty, nasty, poop hair!
Leave me alone fly! I took a shower this morning and I haven’t farted recently. I have nothing to offer you.
Lands on my arm.
Well, I might as well break out the cheesepuffs, get them all over my face and shirt, scratch my bum with my press-on nails through my acid-washed jeans, and try to find the remote to change the channel from WWF to Married With Children. Hey Lazybottom, can you heat up my microwave dinner?