It was our first morning meeting, and the children were flagging, a little. It’s hard to be four and sit on your bottom AND fold your legs AND put your hands in your lap AND remember not to interrupt the teacher. I was trying to get them through our new daily routine of calendar and counting the days and morning message, when someone noticed the wasp.
(It is warm today, and I was sweating within thirty minutes of the start of the school day, so our window was open. No screen means that sometimes bugs do fly in.)
Panicked expressions were everywhere.
I said, “Oh, yeah, that’s our wasp. He’s fine, he won’t hurt you. I know, let’s make him our class pet!”
“What should we name him?”
Then one little girl piped up, “Max?”
“Max!” I cried. “What a wonderful name! Okay, everyone say hi to Max!”
“HI, MAX,” they chorused.
“Now where did he go?” I asked. “Maybe he’s playing hide and seek with us. I think he’s hiding behind that light.”
The whole class was smiling and waving up at the light fixture.
“Let’s look for him tomorrow,” I suggested. “I bet he’ll still be here. He likes us.”
And then — “Let’s read our morning message!” And all was well.