This morning I warned the boys that this was the last week of summer vacation, and they should be sure to enjoy it. They stared at me in disbelief, despite the fact that the rest of the kids in the neighborhood went back to school last week. My sons are blessed indeed because that I believe it is morally wrong to start school before Labor Day. Plus, I’m not ready.
So after breakfast they went outside, determined to enjoy the day in a summer vacation-like manner.
After a while Tre came running in, very excited.
“MAMA! There’s a WASP outside! It’s WEIRD and BIG and it has yellow legs but it isn’t pollen on the legs. It’s some sort of WASP thing and I poured water on its hole and we almost got STUNG."
“Well, honey, leave the wasp alone,” I replied with utmost reasonableness. He sighed, a bit deflated at my lack of amazement at the scary wasp thing, and turned and ran back out to face the danger.
A few minutes later, Raphael came running in.
“MAMA MAMA MAMA MAMA-“I placed my hand on his sun-warmed head.
“YES, my love,” I interrupted. My ears, they were bleeding.
“MAMA THERE IS A FREAKO BEE OUTSIDE. IT ALMOST STUNG ALL OF US.”
“Well, leave it alone.” He too, looked disappointed. He turned to go, then ran back shrieking,
“There is a FLY IN THE HOUSE! FLY ALERT FLY ALERT FLY ALERT! GET THE FLY SWATTER!”
“Ok, I’ll get it in a minute.”
He turned around and almost ran into Max, who was barreling down the hallway.
“Mama?” said Max, “can we-“
“WATCH IT!” bellowed Raphi, “YOU ALMOST RAN INTO ME!”
“Sorry, Raphi,” said Max.
“Raphael, please stop yelling.” I said.
“I DON’T YELL,” said Raphael, and ran away, yelling.
“Mama, can we turn on the hose and squirt the bee’s hole? It made a home UNDER OUR HOUSE.”
“No, leave the poor thing alone. It can live under our house, I give it permission.”
“BUT MAMA! It went in the hole and now we can’t find it!”
“Leave. It. Alone. How would YOU like it if some great giant stuck his hose in your house and turned on the water so he could find YOU?”
He cocked his head at me and fixed me with a look that clearly said, woman, you are no longer making sense, then shrugged and ran back out to face down the deadly freako bee.
A few minutes later Tre shouted in the door,
“Well, can we at least pour baking soda and vinegar down its hole?”
I heard disappointed mutters, then the excited proclamation,
“Hey, let’s get some STICKS!”
It’s a good day to be a boy, not such a great day to be a freako bee.