I vacuumed a bee last night. Let me explain.
My daughters called me into the living room to get a bee. I grabbed some newspaper, rolled it up, and prepared for battle. I asked them where the bee was, and they pointed to the curtains. As I stepped closer, the bee came out from between the folds. I stared in disbelief and said the one word I try hard not to say in front of my kids, or on this blog for that matter. Let’s just say it is a word that rhymes with duck, and in this particular case was preceded by the utterance, “Oh.”
My children ran screaming from the room, now certain that the situation was desperate. They holed up in my oldest daughter’s room, apparently stuffing books in the space between the door and the floor, just in case the monster bee decided to follow them.
And this thing was a monster. I don’t know what species of bee I was looking at, but I was pretty sure that my rolled up section of Monday’s Classifieds was not going to do the job. A shotgun would have been more appropriate, but impractical. I briefly debated calling 911. I almost ran over to my neighbor for help, but didn’t want to look like a wimp.
I decided that if I could slide the vacuum hose just under the bee, I could suck it up without getting too close, and that is what I tried. But it was hard to get into the folds of the curtains, and the freakishly large bee took off for the picture window. And it was pissed.
I figured I had one more chance before this thing called in its posse. The window did make an easier battleground. I snuck the hose just under the bee, slid it up, and WHOOOOMP, it was gone. I let the vacuum run for another two minutes, with a vision of the freakishly strong bee fighting against the air current and climbing out of the hose. Then in one movement, I pulled out the hose, closed the canister, and turned off the vacuum. It has been twelve hours and I am still afraid to go near the vacuum cleaner.
I have chased, carried, and brushed many live things out of this house. If it had been a normal bee, I might have caught it with a glass and piece of paper, and released it to the wild. But this creature would have required a punch bowl and poster-board, and there is only so far I can go. I do feel a little bad, in case in was some kind of queen bee and I have now decimated the hive. But it could have been a master warrior bee from that plan in The X-Files that I never really understood, in which case I may have just saved the world.
Whichever it was, it is no longer a happy bee, like the bees in Arthur Yorinks’ picture book and CD, Happy Bees. The words in this book are simple, making it fun for toddlers, preschoolers, and beginning readers. There is a lot going on in all of the pictures, which are done in a fun, cartoon style. A CD is included with the book and contains many bee-themed songs, which are catchy and cute. The happy bees go about their way enjoying themselves, and wreaking havoc while all the people run away from them.
I guess they didn’t have vacuum cleaners with them.