We recently went on vacation and it was fun. Then we came home and I had to do laundry and that was not fun.
As I pulled the first load out of the dryer, I found a bumble bee. A very dead, crispy bumble bee. It was all black and crunchy, but still fully in bumble bee form. Why was there a bee in my dryer? We’d been gone for over a week. Did it come home in our clothes? Did one of my children think that it would be a good idea to keep a dead bee?
Or, and this is what I really suspect, are bees trying to squat in my home? I picture little bee real estate agents giving tours of our house and saying things like, “now this next one doesn’t meet your desire for a honey comb, BUT it has ready access to a heated pool, the location is great, and you’ll save a fortune on heating!”
Imagine their little bee horror when wet clothing landed on their home, the earthquake known as the “big one” started, and then the heat. Oh, the horrific heat. They knew the Lord would never FLOOD the earth again, but he didn’t say he wouldn’t burn everything to a crisp.
Were there bee prayers? Dryer-wide vigils, inadvisable last minute relationships, or just one last wild party?
Or did the bee just go, “Dammit, I will never listen to my mother’s directions again.”
I also found raisins in the washing machine, but that I could trace back to the raisins we had for snack and the children learning to be responsible and putting their own clothing in themselves.
Before I had children, I never found anything in my laundry but clothes. And the occasional movie ticket stub. Man, I miss finding movie ticket stubs after the fact. They are MUCH better than blackened bees in the lint trap.