Son of a bee - Part 1

We are back from our many travels.  We had the time of our lives.  Well, maybe the time of the year.  Okay, definitely, the time of the month (wait, that doesn’t sound quite right.) 

There is a lot of competition, but we had an amazing time.  We will elaborate later.  For now, an incident from our Washington travels. 

I am going to murder those Sons of Bees.

Rage fills my body.  My mind races for a way to exterminate these bees with my bare hands, but comes up empty. 

Flashback (I hope you are imagining those wavy lines that they used in Saved by the Bell)

I am in kindergarten.  I have been banished to the playground.  I am seated on the metallic benches that are either too hot or too cold depending on the time of year (but always uncomfortable, given that it is southern california in the 80’s and short shorts are the only option).

I am seething.  I was sent out of the class by Mrs. Kelly for teasing Krystal, my first crush.  (Actually, I still profess my innocence.  Although, perhaps I should have professed it before confessing to the teasing.  Next time, for sure.)

A solitary ant crawls across the table.  It brushes its legs against the metal ridges.  I decide to take my revenge upon the invader.  Swiftly, I crush it under my fat five-year old finger.  Only my five-year old aim isn’t true. 

I look down to discover that I have only damaged its abdomen.  The thorax and head are intact.  It attempts to drag its crippled body from the unanticipated ambush.  It has difficulty given the uneven surface. 

I know that I should finish the task.  That an ant that is pinned by its own abdomen is not enjoying whatever ant life holds.  But, I cannot.  Instead, I am overcome by remorse.  I fight back tears. 

I rise from the table and reenter the classroom.  Mrs. Kelly does not castigate me for my early return.  Probably, confusing my somber mood with remorse for teasing Krystal. 

This memory, for whatever reason, is one of my most vivid.  Throughout my childhood, and adulthood I refrain from insect slaughter.  It is one of my few foibles that does not amuse Wendy (I have many, but Wendy is not bothered by most of them).  When there is a huge spider, or a creepy insect in the house that she wants me to kill, as is my husbandly duty, I never comply.

But, like I said at the beginning, I want to kill these bees.

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Salt Lake Utah Lifestyle Photographer

Taken somewhere in Montana, after the kids had seen their first Bald Eagle.

 

BLUE LILY | Lifestyle Photographer | Salt Lake City, Utah