Tuesday, November 11, 2008

The Little Housefly

I watched him in fascination; the little housefly at my window. He walked around the glass in apparent dissatisfaction with his locale. He wanted out. In some ways, I felt for him. I know how it is to be trapped.

I thought for a moment that I should just let him out. I wondered if I should take a little time and help him regain his freedom. He could live somewhere else and live happily.

Did I have the time? No.
Would he understand? No.

I would just be chasing him around the bathroom in hopes of helping, which would bring me nothing but frustration.

My little guy was suffering with a horrible cough and the warmth of the shower was clearing out his chest a bit. I needed to focus on him, my true concern. Then, he began to buzz around the room.
In a second I knew that the fly could bother my sick son and maybe even bringing disease to our home.
I couldn't imagine hurting the little fly while I felt sorry for him and his wasted efforts to escape. I sympathized with him. However, once I thought as the mother of my son, I had nothing but distain for his dirtiness.

Without another thought, the shampoo bottle came down, "BAM!"

He lay there on the bottom of the tub; dead. I let the water wash him away.

His wish was granted; he had his freedom. He was out of our apartment.

1 comment:

egyptchick7 said...

Imagine living in a NYC apartment with all those roaches....you would hate it...I hate it...it's nasty. It's sweet and all that you were concerned, but, uhm, well...it isn't like a nice ladybug on a lampshade..lol