Safety is a constant battle.

You can never relax.

Yesterday afternoon I was sitting at my dining room table, minding my own business. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw something moving on the living room floor.

"That's strange," I thought.

When I turned to look closer, I saw that it was a bee.

"How did that get in here?" You won't be surprised to know that the fact that I was alone did not stop me from asking this question out loud.

I kept watching it from a distance, and the bee just kept walking along the carpet.

This reminded me of how much I love it when I see birds walking. I find it hilarious. I always imagine the bird's inner monologue to go something like: Sure, I could fly. But I'm not in a rush. I'll just walk it.

But as I watched this bee for a bit, it became clear that things were not so chill for this little guy. He was eventually just walking in circles.

Brilliant me that I am, I figured this meant he needed to get out of here. If he had his choice between walking on some weird carpet or flying out in nature? Duh. Also, I was getting nervous that he might start flying and, in a rage or panic, start stingin'.

So I tried to get him onto a piece of cardboard. But my attempt was squeamish and, therefore, half-assed (i.e., pointing the cardboard in his general direction, getting real noodly when the bee would get near it, and finally dropping the cardboard near the bee to remind me not to step there.) The fact that my Sidekick would be home within the hour may've played a part in the weakness of my efforts. What?! My Sidekick would gladly take care of the whole thing! I am too a feminist! Come on!

I put a sticky note on the cardboard in case I somehow forgot to mention it to my Sidekick, because I didn't want him to step on the guy either.

I kept an eye on the little bee the whole time. He did some walking. He did some circling. And eventually, he was done with all of that. By the time my Sidekick came home, the little bee had done all he came here to do.

It was very sad, actually, the bee dying on my living room floor. My Sidekick very sweetly scooped the little bee remains onto the cardboard and put them outside.

"He probably had a good little life," my Sidekick said.

"Yeah. Poor little guy."

"I can't believe you made a sign that said 'bee'. That's adorable."

"I didn't want you to step on him."

"Did you take a picture of it?"

"Um. Yes?"

My Sidekick is amazing for a million reasons. He's sweet. He's humane. And he knows that with the crafting as slow as it's been around here, my taking a picture of a bee and a sign that says 'bee' is absolutely the right thing to do.