We’re having a bee problem: yellowjackets are swarming our house.  They’ve infiltrated the kitchen and hallway, and built a small army in my daughter’s room.  Rebecca refuses to sleep there. I can’t blame her.  Just the other day we pulled back the bedding and discovered the queen bee staking new territory amidst her floral blue sheets.

Seems like wild things are everywhere.  A Denver friend tells me, “we’ve got squirrels in our home.  Isn’t it just the way things happen that their house is on the market?

My friend, Sarah, too, says a pesky mouse is fluttering about their New York City apartment.  A mouse that apparently likes physics as it moves into the open when her husband reads Disturbing the Universe.

Bedbugs, too.  Infestations and exterminations and the pests of life.

Do we coexist with these creatures? What kind of nuisances are we willing to accept?

Perhaps we shrug them off, make a beeline for the movies, and reel in the real Where the Wild Things Are.

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