In my experience, there are three types of reactions you will find humans having when coming in contact with the ominous bee.
1. The Runner: When this individual spots the all too familiar markings of the bee, no matter how far away the minuscule thing may appear, they run.
Their hands will fling up towards their chest, and they will let out a life altering bellow to begin their scurry to safety.
Whether it be, hiding behind some large mass which they assume conceals them from the terrifying insect or locking themselves in a car or simply moving strait towards a stranger’s house- they will do almost anything to avoid that slight chance of getting stung.
The Runner will end their plight by telling the people who are calmly sitting and watching the fiasco, “THAT WAS A CLOSE ONE! I’ve never been stung before ... I could be allergic.”
2. The Spectator: This type of person is calm, cool and collected. Although, they do not want to be stung, because really who does?
They even more so do not want to look like the weirdo who has been running up and down the block for 10 minutes claiming there was a teensy tiny bug chasing them.
Although they come off as having their wits about them, they are truly trembling inside. They watch that bee with a glower, not letting the little guy out of their sight.
Because deep down, just like the fear that jades ‘The Runners’ mind, they dread the thought of the buzzing insect getting so close it becomes tangled in their hair, stinging their already sunburnt scalp ... or something of a similar effect.
So they watch, and wait and patiently will that bee away.
3. The Motto Master: Any person of The Runner variety has more than likely heard hundreds of adages from this type of person ... ‘Just stay still, and bee won’t bother you.’ ‘If you ignore it, it will ignore you.’ ‘It is more afraid of you, than you are of it.’
I’m sure The Motto Master is quite annoying to the person who is running for their ever loving life from this killer bee, and even The Spectator who although, quiet, is blubbering like a baby inside. Regardless- there is a Motto Master at any summer outing. So, now that I have explained my take on human beings and their pollinating friends, I will begin my bee story. And if you were curious, I believe I am a number two ... The Spectator.
It is 3:30 p.m., the kids and I had just arrived home from picking Lars up from school. We were all tired and I was still trying to conjure up something to make for supper.
The kids bee-line (pun definitely intended) for the living room, while I make my way towards the kitchen.
Upon arriving I stop dead in my tracks.
There is a bee. ... Not just any bee, a bee that must set a length of an inch and a half and fat to boot, sitting delicately atop my kitchen window screen.
My first thought is to grab the flower vase that sits to right of me and pummel it until all I can see is its juices streaming down the perforated pane. But I figure Jamie would be a little upset if I were to ruin a perfectly good window panel over a bee.
So I collect myself, I am a Spectator after all, I can deal with this. ...
Sophie enters.
In a complete overreaction, I scream, “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET BACK TO THE LIVING ROOM! THAT BEE COULD STING YOU!!!!”
You see, I am a tad anxious when it comes to the kids and bees ... since they have never been stung. ... And they could be ... hmmm I suppose this sounds slightly familiar. Maybe I am more of The Runner type than I thought.
Well I can tell you this much my friends, my three-year-old is the bravest kid I think I have ever seen! She makes her way to the kitchens pantry, grabs the fly swatter and proceeds to boost up her 28 year old mother with this spiel,
“Mama, we going to get that bee! We will to destroy it, no bee gets in our house and stays! We brave Mama ... I brave, you brave ... and Yarsy (Lars) brave ... right Yarsy?”
“No I’m not brave ... I’m scared of the bee, I will just stay down here.” Is the faint reply from the living room.
‘Well, I brave Mama, and you are too!’ Then, the girl thrusts her fly swatter into the air above her head and yells with vigor, “LET’S GO GET THAT BEE MAMA!”
And with some fancy moves that involve a cup and a piece of cardboard combined with the bravery of a small child we are able to capture the bee and release it into its natural habitat of the back yard.
And as I give Soph a big hug and thank her for helping me rid the bee she looks up at me and says with a straight face, “You know Mama, that little bee is more scared of you than you are of it.”
Lindsay Brown is a Sylvan Lake mother of two and freelance columnist.