{She Said} When the Going Gets Buggy

I was saying bye to Matt at the door this morning when this huge loud bug flew off of the doorway and on to the the sidewalk behind Matt. I immediately said a quicker good bye and slammed the door. I am not strong for my loved ones (or anyone really) when it comes to bugs. Infact, I think it is safe to say that I am the coward running the other way in times of bug peril while I leave even small children alone to take care of the situation.

This happens at school as well. If a bug is seen, I…

1. get as far away from it as possible
2. locate the male (sorry if you find this sexist but I would argue chivalry) student in the room that seems like he has the most to prove about his masculinity
3. have that student “take care of” the bug (I am open to them relocating the unharmed bug outside if they are willing but I am not going to be picky as speed is the key for me here)
4. applaud said student as if they just put out a raging fire

Only one time has been the exception. Back in the fall of last year, I developed a bee problem in my room.

Every day for about a week, a different bee would show up (you will find out how I know it was a different bee each day in a minute). The students would squirm and I would tell them to move away from the location of the bee (usually banging it’s head against the window which I assume is because it felt stupid for falling into the same trap as it’s predecessors) and then I would call for help. I would inform the front office that I wasn’t an exterminator and wasn’t paid as such so they better get someone else down here. Evidently that didn’t motivate them too much because it always took FOREVER for the administrator to get there and by that time, I am happy to announce I would have always taken care of the bee myself (the bee didn’t make it through the shoe’s encouraging swat to find another location through the window). I will say that my burst of courage with the bee situation had to do with my self aware students never knowing if they were allergic to bees or not. I wasn’t willing to take the chance so, as I like to think of it, I took the bullet for the kids.

The bee problem in my room led to a completely ridiculous conversation (during class in front of students) with a maintenance man. It went roughly like this…

Mr. Fix-It (looking around the room): where are the bees coming from

(students now thoroughly distracted watching the amateur bee keeper)

Me: I don’t know, the first I see of them, they always seem like they have been here for a bit and are usually banging into that window (pointing)

Mr. Fix-It (studying indicated window): Ahh. Think they are coming from outside?

Me: I really don’t know.

Mr. Fix-It: Ahh.

Students chime in: We think they come from the vents.

Mr. Fix-It (looking at me): do you think they come from the vents?

Me: I really don’t know.

Mr. Fix-It: I’ll take a look in the ceiling (leaves, as I found out a few minutes later, to get a ladder)

Now, realizing that the class was pretty much going to be about the current state of bees in my classroom, I gave the students independent work that they could finish at home depending on how long this charade when on.

Mr. Fix- It (with his head in the ceiling): I don’t see anything.

Me: What were you expecting to see?

Mr. Fix-It: A hive or swarm or something.

Me (in my head): of course

Mr. Fix-It: Well maybe they will go away come winter. They hibernate right?

Me: You know, I am the history person here, not the bee person, I really couldn’t tell you but I do hope that we aren’t resting all of our confidences in not having an allergic student stung on bee hibernation.

Mr. Fix-It: Maybe I’ll call the district’s exterminator.

Me: Oh ok. Sounds like that would be the best bet (i.e. why were you even here in the first place for a bee problem if we have a district exterminator).

I kept throwing myself in front of bees until they went into hibernation for the winter. Never had the pleasure of meeting the district exterminator.