There are few experiences in life more infuriating than a housefly making repeated kamikaze dives at your face. You can be sitting there in peaceful contemplation, a cup of tea in hand, and suddenly find yourself conducting an impromptu martial arts demonstration in your lounge. The dog looks concerned, the neighbours think you’ve lost your mind, and still the little bugger keeps coming back for more.
But contrary to popular belief, the housefly isn’t acting out of malice or a secret vendetta. It’s not trying to blind you, humiliate you, or prove dominance. It's certainly not attempting to burrow into your ears. No. it’s simply hungry. And unfortunately, you're on the menu.
Why your face is the fly’s favourite restaurant
Flies, as it turns out, are connoisseurs of the finer things in life, provided those finer things are yeast, sweat, salt, oil, and dead skin cells. To a fly, your face is the equivalent of a Michelin-starred tasting menu. That delightful sheen on your forehead? That’s sodium and moisture, served warm. The corners of your eyes? A fine broth of salt and protein. Your lips? A hint of oil, a whiff of humanity, and possibly the remains of that biscuit you just dunked in your tea and ate.
And before you accuse the poor housefly of having questionable table manners, remember this: flies taste with their feet. Every time one lands on you, it’s essentially stamping its approval, or disapproval, across your cheeks. A single fly’s foot has more sensory sophistication than most human tongues, which is impressive, if not slightly revolting.
An air of.. Je ne sais quoi (I don't know what)
The air that you breath is essential to your own survival, but what goes in, must come out. In the case of human beings, we breathe out carbon dioxide, which forms a sort of invisible globe around our heads. And yes, you've guessed it, your resident housefly loves carbon dioxide, because it signals potential food source, like yeast. Let's face it, you're attractive... at least to your friendly housefly.
The world according to fly vision
Another reason they seem so determined to head-butt your eyeballs is their bizarre eyesight. Flies see the world in thousands of tiny mosaic fragments, like watching reality through a broken disco ball. When you move, their vision screams “MOTION! DANGER! FOOD! FACE!” all at once. Their brains don’t quite have the processing power to tell the difference between a predator and a potential snack, hence, the relentless buzzing around your personal space.
In short, your face is both a dazzling light show of attractive movement mixed with a potential tasty buffet. It's a housefly version of Strictly Come Dancing and Dancing With The Stars after show feast. What housefly could resist?
The dance of futility
You, of course, respond like any rational human: you swat, wave, curse, and flail. This is exactly what the fly wants. Your movements stir up air currents that help it locate the warmest, saltiest parts of your anatomy. It’s like you’re inviting it to dinner and then performing an interpretive dance while it eats.
And just when you think you’ve chased it off, it lands again, smug, fearless, victorious. Because while you’re armed with logic and a rolled-up newspaper, the fly is armed with speed, chaos, and a lifespan short enough to make every moment count. You’ll tire long before it does.
A reluctant truce
So the next time a fly insists on inspecting your nostrils at close range, remember this: it’s not personal. It’s biology. The poor creature’s only crime is enthusiasm. Still, that won’t stop you from swatting it with your tea towel.
The truth is, houseflies have been perfecting the art of human irritation for millennia, and we’re unlikely to outwit them anytime soon. They’re survivors, opportunists, and the only dinner guests guaranteed to arrive uninvited and refuse to leave.
So let them buzz. Let them have their microscopic taste of glory. And if all else fails, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and grab a rolled up newspaper and start swinging!
Copyright © Tom Kane October 2025