Anger makes us say and do horrible things
7:15 am. The house is silent while the kitchen machinery hums gently preparing food for the kid to take to school. The only sounds are the excited twittering of neighborhood birds. They are always so excited about the dawn of a new day!
7:16 am. The peaceful morning ends with blood-curdling screams. The room door is flung open and the kid hops in screaming in pain.
Me: Ayyo, Kanda, what happened?
Kid: I stepped on a bee. I’ve been stung. It is paining.
Me: Let’s get that stinger out.
Kid: I removed it. But it is still burning. KILL THAT BLOODY BEE.
Me: <Checking my phone for bee sting first aid.> Ice pack! Yes! Here, keep this ice pack on the area.
I gave my kid the ice pack and went to her room to look for the bad bee. I found one poor tiny bee tottering about near the balcony door. It was just roaming around aimlessly in mad circles. My kid was stung, but the little bee’s entire existence had been stepped on. Can you imagine its trauma?
I used a tissue to pick up the bee and place it gently on the balcony before snapping the door shut tight. Not sure how the fellow got in!
Back in the living area, the original calm morning was slowly trying to creep back in. The kid said the ice pack was helping. Thank God. She had to leave for school in ten minutes.
Later in the evening, we were recounting the tale.
One small voice said, “Good you didn’t kill the bee.”
Me: How do you know I didn’t kill it?
Kid: I saw it hobbling around on the balcony. I said to kill it in a moment of anger. Paapa, poor bee. Bees are cute.
Me: Ah, yeah. I am glad I didn’t kill it either. The bee didn’t attack you on purpose.
Kid: Yup. And I am fine now. So it is all ok. So glad the bee is fine too. Its mom is probably patting it on the head and helping it get over the trauma of being stepped on!
What is the moral of the story?
You tell me 🙂