The drone bee that wasn't kicked out in the cold

H.o.p. was mortified when he learned that drone bees are kicked out of the hive to die. In tonight’s story-play-game he is a drone bee who has made himself useful by making a map of the hive (so bees can find their way to the nursery etc.) and protecting the hive from intruders. He is certain that having made himself useful in this way, he won’t be kicked out. He’s going all around telling me about the layout of the hive, about the different parts of it, including the kitchen where the royal jelly is made.

He brought this up last night when he went to bed. “Drone bees are kicked out of the hive to die.”

“Yes.”

“What am I going to do when I’m kicked out of the hive to die?”

“You’re not a drone bee. You’re not going to be kicked out of a hive to die.”

“Oh right! I’m so glad I’m not a drone bee. But why do they kick the drones out to die?”

“Nature made them that way. Feels kind of sad, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah!”

“To us, but maybe not to bees. I don’t know how a bee feels about it. A drone bee may feel it’s perfectly natural.”

Right now he’s taking extra cells from the hive and using them as buckets to go down to the river and get water to bring back ffor the baby bees. He’s come back to the hive and he’s closing the door so the baby bees won’t fly out on their own and get hurt. Now he’s asking me if I’m hungry, having decided I’m the queen bee, and he’s bringing me royal jelly the worker bees have made.

He’s talking about how the child bees need to be told to enjoy their childhood so that they will appreciate it while they’re children and that way they’ll enjoy being adults when they’re adults.

He did a marvelous recording at the studio this weekend. He told a story and did all his own sound effects and sang his own background track. He isn’t interested in learning an instument yet but he makes music in his head for all his stories. He rehearses the story and rehearses the music separately. I was really impressed with the recording. He sounded so confidant and self-assured, going by this internal clock that had the timing of his story just so.

Anyway, now it is winter (he checked the temp) and it’s time for the bees to pack their hive and migrate. I tell him bees stay in the hive in the winter, in clusters. “Not according to the rules of our game,” he says, “this is just a game.” Everything is packed and we move, the worker bees carrying us to a far off land and while they move us we enjoy relaxing in the hive and H.o.p. talks about how comfortable it is..

“I like the peace and quiet. No bears growling…”

He guides the worker bees to a warm island where we land and we are the same size as humans here.

“Yahoo! Nobody will step on us!”

Then he asks the inhabitants, “Are we bigger, or are you the same size as bees?”

Oh good, the island has turned out to have a toy store which is good as there are children bees in the hive. Does the island have flowers that make pollen? It does and that’s good of course. Are there mosquitoes here? No, and that’s good as they’re the villains. It’s a great place, this island.

Oh, no, the mosquitoes are on their way here. Gotta go.