My Bee-Eater Purchase

I woke up this morning, looked in the mirror and introduced myself. “Sara, meet Sara,” I said out loud (that’s right, out loud). “Sara is on a new journey to become a hot, foxy mama while taking the right steps for the future. Today is the beginning of your new life. Now get out there and take them down, you saucy minx!” Again, out loud – not proud of it, but someone had to talk back to me in the mirror.
So this became my first step on the bridge of faith…it felt good for a about 30 minutes and then those stupid belittling bee thoughts started buzzing around in my head. I needed to find some tools for this new journey to capture those little bad bee thoughts that keep me from moving forward. Where could I find these particular tools to abate these swarming bees in my head? I sat down, opened my computer and typed in this address: www.ebay.com. Surely, some woman out there traveled on this same journey and is auctioning off her bee-eater tool. I typed in the search bar “tools to combat your brain while keeping you sane and moving forward.” Return search: “no results.” Next I typed in “bee spray.” Return search: “Golden Bee Iron-On Fashions Floral Spray Kit.” Oh, it’s there alright. Go ahead and type it in if you don’t believe me. Seller claims “This would be beautiful on a dish towel, table cloth or table runner as well.” Who knew? After admiring the golden bees on the white, puffy sweatshirt, I moved on to my next search. “Bee-Eater.” Return search: “European Bee-Eater, 19 results.” “What is this?” I exclaimed to myself. A real, live bee-eater…perfect. So I did some research before making my purchase. Here is what National Geographic had to say: True to their name, bee-eaters eat bees. When the bird chases a bee, it flies like a heat-seeking missile, matching its prey’s every twist and swoop. After a midair snatch, the bee-eater returns to its perch to de-venom the bee. It’s a brutally efficient operation. Grasping the bee in its beak, the bird bashes (yes “bashes”) the insect’s head on one side of the branch, then rubs its abdomen on the other. The rubbing causes the stunned, sometimes headless (that’s right “headless”) bee to flush its toxins. Thank. You. Ebay. I have officially found my first tool for this journey. I chose to purchase the painting of the beautiful bee-eater…the taxidermied one might have been a bit much – especially if I ever wanted to have a dinner party in the future. The fifteen-dollar painting will remind me to take those “bee-littling” thoughts captive and continue to move forward. Confirm payment? “Check.”