My son was given a series of books entitled Fly Guy. You can check them out at Amazon, here.
My son and daughter love these little stories. We read them over and over and over and over and over again….
It struck me today how much these stories have changed my kids.
Whilst eating breakfast out on the deck this morning, several flies had picked up the scent of bacon. Intrigued, they came over to explore.
Between us, I am drawn similarly to the smell of bacon in the neighborhood. (Look out, neighbors!) I cannot begrudge the flies wanting to look, but they sure as hell should not touch MY bacon.
“Mommy, stop shooing the flies!” my daughter yelled.
“What?” I asked, puzzled.
“Stop. Shooing. The. Flies.” She enunciated as carefully and as sweetly as a three year old girl could, for effect. “They are our friends.”
Just about then, my son lets out a scream of delight. “Mommy! A fly just landed on my pancake! He LIKES me!”
Then, my daughter started to choke up. I could hear the sadness quavering in her voice. “Mommy, the flies don’t like me…”
Oh, give me a break! Really?!?!
“Hon, I am absolutely sure the flies like you. Give them time and they will land on your food, too.”
“Not if you are shooing them away!”
There was a time when those kids would have run screaming in terror from a fly. I kinda miss those days when I could shoo it away and be the hero.
Now, instead, I have two kids who believe flies are pets. Two kids for whom it has become a badge of honor having one land on their food and lick it with their carrion and feces covered proboscis.
Thank you, Fly Guy. Thank you.