Summer Chronicles, Part 1: The Plea

Anyone out there with little boys, please tell me this will soon pass!

Of course, Ezra is obsessed with bugs right now because what little boy isn't?  He's always asking me to help him find potato bugs and worms and centipedes, etc.  At first, I was more than happy to hand over a potato bug to keep him occupied while I hunted weeds in the garden.  But within seconds he would be back asking for more.  Then I started hearing this: "I wanna smash it!"  And with his bare fingers, there goes another bug.  On a hike the other day, Andrew pointed out one of those big, black beetles.  Sure enough, after bending down to examine it, Ezra stood up and stomped on it.  The crunching sound of a beetle may give me nightmares.  My inner naturalist cringes every time we spot an unsuspecting bug.

I know bugs die all the time, and the bugs around here are in no danger of extinction, but I can't get over the mindless killer inside of my "innocent" baby boy.  I've tried to explain that bugs need to find food for their families.  (Probably not, but it's a story that tugs heart strings, right?)  I've told him that bugs die if you squish them.  So far, he just finds these to be interesting facts to talk about right before he strikes again.  "This bug a baby bug?  His daddy at work?  He get food?  This bug dead?"

Ay, ay, ay!