“No way! You can start your van with your remote?” A conversation along these lines began. Suddenly it was interrupted by the mom looking horrified and lunging for something behind me.
I spun around in time to see Gwen tipped over onto the ground still strapped in her stroller. The mom and I set the stroller back up on all four wheels. Gwen cried a little. Surprised cries never last too long. I think Gwen realized it was her fault for reaching out to the side for something on the ground. Wood chips can be dangerous if you’re not careful.
Once I knew Gwen was fine my eyes immediately looked in the right cup holder for Bob. My heart sank and a mixture of emotions fought to be number one in my mind.
When the bell had rung and the playground filled with milling kids, Gavin walked toward me with a huge smile on his face and a small plastic cup in his hands. The plastic cup was clear with a clear lid and a ladybug crawling around inside. Since he forgot his backpack in his exuberance to show me the ladybug, he told me to watch Bob until he got back.
Bob. What a great name for a ladybug. A girl in his class had named hers too. Some girl name I don’t remember but then she changed it to Apple. I thought of Gwyneth Paltrow who named her daughter Apple.
Parker was holding Bob. He promised Gavin that he wouldn’t shake Bob. No need for shakin’ ladybug syndrome. Gavin was ok with that even though I could tell he really wanted to hold Bob himself.
I had visions in my mind of grabbing my camera and snapping pictures while Gavin released Bob into our garden. First we had to get to the van and I had to have a long conversation with a mom where the aforementioned chaos happened. Bob’s untimely demise/disappearance was devastating to Gavin and me.
The worst part about it all is not knowing what happened to Bob. Where is he? After Gwen was properly taken care of, I looked. No Bob. I didn’t even see the lid. The mom’s oldest son handed Gwen the cup that was cracked on both sides from being squished by a toppling two year old in a stroller. I’m thinking Bob either is smashed into oblivion or he narrowly escaped, flying across the street to the park and on his way to someone else’s garden. Maybe he carried the lid with him. Who knows.
Is it wrong to be so bummed?
When we got home Gavin told me how he wanted to make a house for Bob and put it in the garden. He didn’t understand when I told him that bugs don’t live in houses. They fly around eating aphids and chilling on leaves. He still wanted a house for Bob. I was still sorry Bob was gone.