About two weeks ago, something extraordinary happened... We were visited by a wayward mid-winter house fly.
At first, he was nothing more than a passing distraction, until someone finally commented on how strange it was to have a fly buzzing around the house in the middle of January.
Before long, we realised something even more extraordinary: it appeared our humble house fly was following us around.
"What should we call him?" Charlotte asked one evening dinner.
"I think his name is Garth," Michelle replied.
"But how do you know?" Said the Charlotte, checking that she wasn't being lied to.
"Because," I said, joining in the ruse, "He told us, of course."
That seemed to be enough to allay any of Charlotte's concerns.
And so it was that out house of three, became a house of four.
Garth is there with us during breakfast in the morning. He visits again during supper, and even comes upstairs to hang out while Charlotte puts her pyjamas on, and brushes her teeth.
We love you, Garth. Our faithful pet house fly.
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