This is Richard, my youngest son’s first born. I like to call him my little bumblebee.
Unfortunately he has gotten his share of direct experiences with bees. Usually it’s because he has stepped on them as they crawl across the floor—one of the hazards of having a grandpa who is a beekeeper. I come back from the apiary and I usually bring some bees with me, hiding in my backpack or (hopefully) in the bucket of honey. Will he be a beekeeper one day?
Richard and his bee shoes.
For Richard’s third birthday, as is tradition in Honduras, he had a piñata. A bee in this case!
The before and after photos of the piñata—poor thing!