The bug

It was a summer birthday party for her little buddy P. There was a bouncy house, adorable table decorations, a bug shaped birthday cake, and a bug hunt.  The birthday boy’s parents made cute little bug houses out of peanut butter jars, and sent the kids out in search of about a hundred plastic toy bugs.

The children ran forward at the word “go” and began grabbing up every bug in sight.  Not Selam. It was more or less just like her experience of the Easter egg hunt downtown.  She’s just as content with some as she is with many.  At one point, sweet P dumped a huge pile of bugs into her jar. She was happy with that, but I don’t think it had occurred to her that she was behind in the bug acquisition brigade prior to that.

What grabbed her, really, was the chance to find real bugs and put them in the jar and watch them.  After the cake, while the puppy-pile of little boys bounced themselves silly, she did just that. An ant was found and after his untimely death and dignified burial, another parent helped her find a ladybug.

When we left for the day, she walked off leaving the pile of rubber bugs behind.  I went back for it, wrapped the bugs in a paper napkin and carried them to the car. She fell asleep on the ride home, clasping the bug jar. When she woke up, the ladybug was gone, but the leaves and the twigs remain. She opened the lid to the jar, and it waits in our car, in case the ladybug wants to come back.


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