Bob the Fly

It seems that HRH has now adopted herself a new pet she’s named Bob; ‘Bob the Fly’ to be exact.  Yes, she’s taken to a fly that’s been buzzing around inside my car for the past week.  Every time she jumps in the backseat of the car to go somewhere she hunts him out to ‘make sure he’s okay’.  Seriously, a fly? 

I will  pause here for a moment to mention that I think ‘Bob the Fly’  would, however, be an awesome name for a band in the same vein as ‘Young the Giant’, ‘Cage the Elephant’  or ‘Cuff the Duke.  But I digress…

Personally, while I think this whole pet fly business is a bit cute, it’s also pretty freakin’ strange. On the one hand I appreciate that she has a genuine love and respect for all of God’s creatures (save bees and ticks maybe) but then there’s that, well, rather ‘creepy’ Wednesday Adams vibe to it.  I mean, first it’s naming a fly in the car before it potentially snowballs into her becoming that wacko with flies on a leash and threatening to poison the water supply in ‘Midnight In the Garden of Good & Evil’.  It’s certainly a slippery slope.

And, seriously, if she ever starts crazy-gluing thread to the backs of flies so she can take them for a walk around the neighborhood, my ass is outta there!  Sorry Kelly but I’m not living with crazy ‘Queen of the Flies’  girl.

Pause again quickly to note that ‘Queen of the Flies’  is not as cool a band name as ‘Bob the Fly’.

However, the way it is now is pretty harmless in the grand scheme of things I guess; she’s just being a typical imaginative nine-year-old…weird as it may be.  I keep telling myself that anyway.  So Bob continues to buzz around my back seat refusing to fly out any of the windows and she therefore has a travel companion to amuse her for long car drives into the city leaving me largely to my coffee and tunes.  It’s a classic win-win.

Who am I to judge anyway?

God help me.

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