The other day my dad took the kids to the Dollar Tree so they could pick out one item each. Maddie picked a Bug Catcher, which is odd and ironic since she's terrified of bugs. She wanted a "pet" and she thought that would be the best way to go about it since I am the anti-pet Mom AKA "worst mom ever."
After searching for less than 30 seconds this morning she was devastated about not being able to find a "pet." That's when big brother steps in to help. He caught her a fly. A house fly. One that has a lifespan less than a bladder infection.
She named him Buzzy. She carries that case all over and talks to him. She studies him and keep asking me to look up things about him like "why his arms get all tangled up" and "why his eyes are so big."
A life span of a house fly is usually only a few weeks at the most in the wild. In captivity, which isn't something a house fly sees often, it is less. I am sure we'll wake up in the morning to a dead Buzzy. Someone will be devastated, but I know who it won't be - me.
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