Tea: Blueberry

Music: Rare Earth, "Celebrate"

Time: Night.

Today saw a birthday celebration in the family, for which -- courtesy of the generosity of a dear friend -- we went to Old Shawnee Pizza.

Just before we sat down, my son said, "There's a wasp on my shoulder."

There was -- a black one, crawling back and forth. Perhaps it was the cool weather, but it looked more sluggish than threatening.

I walked him outside, slowly, stopping on the way to pick up a copy of a free weekly tabloid. The idea was to flick the wasp up and off him, using the rolled-up paper -- and to swat the little sucker if it got chippy over being dislodged.

No sooner were we out, though, than it flew away. No flipping, no swatting, no nothing.

And you know what? I'm glad -- and for someone who used to be so phobic that I couldn't even look at a picture of a wasp, that's saying something.

Wasps, flies and the like are pests, true -- but they also have their purposes. If they didn't, they wouldn't exist. Killing one for no reason, then, would have served no purpose.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no Jainist. I squash spiders in the bathroom. I set out mousetraps in the garage, when they're needed. I have hunted, and will again. But if I really believe that we're here to be good stewards of creation, I can't kill something just to get it out of my way.