As an aspiring educator, I have many classes about identity. Not only do I have to know my identity, but I must help roughly twenty-five children also find theirs. A huge part of this in the early grades is one's name. It's one of the first things you learn to spell...even if your name is Chrysanthemum or something else ridiculously hard to spell. If we really hate our name, we're quick to come up with a nickname that "better suits our personality." So, of course, if you're a curious child you want to know what your name means. Deborah happens to mean bee. Yep, like the insect that flies around (pretty clever of them to make our shortened name Deb-bie). My family properly called me Queen Bee as they knew I would one day rule them all! Totally kidding.
All the same, I have somewhatly involuntarily become associated with this striped insect which means I get lots of presents with said theme. Bags with bees on them, swimsuits that look like honeycomb, stuffed bears dressed as bees, Burt's bees lipgloss, (making a blog with said theme)...you name it...and by no means am I complaining! The ironic thing is...I am allergic to bees. Now, I haven't been stung by a one since I was a child and it may have "worn off" but who is really brave enough to test that out...not me, ok. So, as a rule I have lived my life following a general rule...don't mess with them, they won't mess with you. But today was a very different story....
It was a day at camp like any other...blistering hot and humid. So obviously, we were outside for lunch. I was just sitting down when I heard a small cry. "NOooAhh" After clarifying that it was not someone calling for a child named Noah I realized it was a combination of both "No" and "Ahh" and was coming from a small boy on the playground equipment. It seemed that a bee had decided to join him for his meal. Now I am not sure what it is about bees, but people just go absolutely crazy when they come around...monkey see, monkey do...our children also respond this way. I calmly told him to leave it alone and surely it would fly away...remember, my rule. However, it instead rested on his shoulder. At this point he was about to panic which would lead to definite stinging and tears, so I joined him on the equipment. The bee had decided for some reason that it deeply desired to be in his shirt and was trying to crawl in his sleeve so I was calmly reassuring him to stand still and it would be ok as I rolled up his sleeve as the bee was walking so that it had nowhere to go.
At this point the bee is getting a little upset, and keep in mind I am still as we know allergic, so I'd prefer not to get stung either. I gently waft my hand as if to say, "Dear Bee, I mean you no harm, see how polite I am being, please leave." Would you believe it, he did...he started flying away...and then about 18 ft out, I kid you not, he turns around and comes speeding at us full throttle. Naturally I grabbed the small boy and spun around in a circle (the bee will be so confused he won't know where to sting if we're spinning around? Believe me, I am as confused as you are about my logic here). Next, I whip off my hat in an attempt to (really who knows what I was thinking here...catch the fuming hot bee in my hat that is thinner than paper?) save the small boy from any pain. I do manage to ward it off a bit and of course at this point, the attention of about half of the camp is on the bee.
Another small child pipes up that he happened to bring his BugSucker to camp and offers its services to us. I am not really sure what was going through my mind at this point, but I accepted the offer. In a moment I was sure would lead to triumph I fired up the BugSucker 2000 (I added that 2000 part for effect) and aimed it straight at the flying buzzer from hell. As it turns out, that thing isn't even as strong as a vacuum cleaner, and our friend is very mad now...and might I add, still targeting the small boy we began the story with (I just keep intervening). When moments like this happen I tend to say something sarcastic and overly dramatic...it's just who I am. So, as a (half) joke I said in a silly voice, "We're all going to die!" As it turns out, six year olds do not understand sarcasm and if you recall, half the camp was watching and gathering around...so now I have a plethora of small children screaming as the bee circles around us and above us and through us like a predator seeking out it's victim. So I prayed real fast, and I yelled real loud, "Everyone calm down, that bee is leaving NOW!" I kid you not...it flew away, never to return again.
Say what you will but most all of this story is not fabricated and also I'm pretty sure that bee was demon possessed. But in the end, no one got stung and I was dubbed hero. Miss Beesaver was my official name of the day as the small boy claims I saved his life! It really is rather funny how much commotion was caused over something so very small, and how quickly we can start to think irrationally. Really, in the end, it wasn't anything I did. In fact, it's very likely that I made matters worse. Yet, somehow, I came out a hero...and in one afternoon at that (took Hercules, what 18 years!? Nailed it!) You can take from this what you want...I just found it ridiculous and laughable.
Thanks for reading! I hope your day was just like that BugSucker...and didn't suck :0)
