We are sitting outside in San Francisco’s Stern Grove, waiting for the symphony concert to begin. I am proudly seated between my son Alex, nine, and my boyfriend. This outing was inspired by me trying to make sure that my child grows up to be a well-rounded and cultured individual.
All is quiet as musicians are taking their seats. Suddenly, two fuzzy bumblebees land on the snow-white tablecloth right in front of our wine, cheese and crackers. Ever so fond of bugs, Alex and I both smile at them adoringly. One of the bumblebees climbs the other’s back, and starts humping.
I kid you not.
This was not some discreet bug-on-bug action. We’re talking humping away like two horny rabbits.
My son looks at me and asks, “Mom, do you know what they're doing?”
I quickly decide that now is not the right time and place for a proverbial birds and bees conversation, and instead opt for a pathetic, “Hmmm, I don’t know… playing? Giving each other piggy back rides?”
Alex looks at me with pity and says, “Mom, they're mating!”
He then proceeds to fill me in on the details of insects’ intercourse that he apparently read in his library book. I listen and politely nod, feeling like an idiot and a prude.
The symphony starts playing, and now the bumblebees are humping in rhythm to some upbeat Hungarian melody. I elbow my boyfriend and point at them. We both start giggling. Alex puts his finger to his mouth to shush us, and looks at the musicians.
My boyfriend picks up a small twig and starts poking at the bumblebees in an attempt to make them go away to some private spot. One of them gets on the stick and starts humping the stick, in synchronization with the musical rhythms.
We can’t stop giggling, and I finally let out a loud snort. Alex shoots me one of my very own, “I am gonna kill you if you don’t shut up right now!” looks, and hisses, “Mom, what’s so funny? They’re just mating.”
Unable to stop giggling, my boyfriend and I stumble from the table and run to the bathrooms, where we can finally laugh out loud until we have tears in our eyes.
The symphony keeps on playing that upbeat, humping Hungarian song.
By Svetlana Nikitina
Labels: Svetlana Nikitina
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# posted by Writing Mamas Salon @ 12:01 AM
