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!
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