Housefly Becomes Unintentional Deadbeat Dad During My Commute

It was a typical Tuesday commute, with one twist.  I noticed a housefly must have gotten in my car from the garage.  No big deal, right?  I didn't think so, either.  I made a few futile attempts to shoe it out the window, then a few attempts to murder it.  Then, Taylor Swift came on the radio, so I focused on sing-screaming that, and just plain forgot about him.  

I got all the way to the city some 20 minutes later, and he reappeared on the passenger window.  I put the window down - he flew out.  But, later that morning it started nagging me - was I a monster?

It dawned on me that this fly probably has a family in the Northern Suburbs that he has unintentionally abandoned. Did I just carelessly turn him into a deadbeat dad?  Is he crushed with sadness and guilt?

Maybe, I'm a hero? Perhaps, his bitch wife is back up north badmouthing him to the children, calling him a worthless, shit-eating bug that she knew was not just going out for cigarettes. Is he pumped that there's generally more garbage in the city, and now he's a bachelor once again?  Telling everyone about my unintentional refugee program? My Harriet Tubman-esque qualities?

I guess I'll never know - I do feel badly. Maybe I'll track down his 'widow' and see if there's some way I can help.  If you know what I mean...