My Father, the Entomologist

Andreanna Edwards 張琪

Bea的爸爸是個(gè)昆蟲愛(ài)好者，你聽(tīng)，他給女兒的名字都取得與眾不同——BUG！這可讓愛(ài)漂亮又不喜歡昆蟲的小女孩十分不滿?？墒怯幸惶欤珺ea突然對(duì)朋友們說(shuō)昆蟲真地很有趣……你想知道為什么嗎？請(qǐng)看下文。

“Oh， Bea， you look as lovely as a longhorn beetle lifting off for flight. And I must admit your antennae① are adorable②. Yes， you've become a splendid young lady.”

Bea rolled her eyes and muttered， “My father， the entomologist③.”

“I heard that， Bea. It's not nice to mumble. Unless you want to be called a...Mumble Bea！” Bea's father slapped his knee and hooted. Bea rolled her eyes a second time.

“The first day of fifth grade， and my father tells me I look like a longhorn beetle.” Bea shuddered at the thought. She absolutely hated bugs.

Why does Dad have to be obsessed④ with insects？ She wondered. Why not football or golf like most fathers？ The answer was simple. Bea's dad was weird⑤. His weirdness made the whole family weird. And he had made Bea the weirdest of all when he named her Bea Ursula Gentry... B.U.G.

Suddenly， Bea felt angry. She flew into the kitchen where her father sat reading Insectology. She hurled her backpack onto the table.

“You know what， Dad？” she asked， tugging on one of her pigtails. “These are not antennae！ Your bumper sticker， ‘Have you hugged a bug today？' is not cool！ And I despise eating in the dining room with all those dead bugs pinned to the walls！”

Bea's voice thundered through the house， rattling the caterpillar⑥ collections. “Why can't you be normal and stop obsessing over icky， sticky insects？” Bea drew in a deep breath and roared， “I ABSOLUTELY HATE BUGS AND I HATE MY HORRIBLE NAME！”

Then Bea turned on her heel， slammed the front door， and stomped down the steps， leaving her father speechless. She even kicked the tire of his black Beetle as she walked past. Obsessed！ She thought.

At school Margaret McClellan invited Bea to a sleepover on Saturday. The girls were going to stay up all night eating junk food. They were secretly planning a shaving cream fight. Bea couldn't wait.

But when she came home from school that afternoon， her father was waiting on the front steps. Bea ran down the side-walk， anxious to tell him about the party.

“Dad！ Margaret McClellan's having a sleepover Saturday night and...”

“Bea，” her father interrupted， “I did not like the way you flew into a rage this morning. I am in the business of bugs， and it's time you learned to deal with it. I don't believe you'll be going to Margaret McClellan's on Saturday.” And having said that， her father walked inside the house.

Bea was dumbfounded. She scrambled up the steps after her father. “I'm sorry， Dad，” she said breathlessly.

“A simple apology isn't going to cut it， Bea. I've made up my mind. You will not be going to Margaret's.”

Bea was mortified⑦. She had to go. She'd do anything， she begged， anything， if she could just go to Margaret's sleepover.

“No， Bea，” her father replied sadly. “I can't think of another punishment that would make up for your impertinent⑧ behavior.”

“What if I can think of something？” Bea asked. She was desperate. “If I can think of some other punishment instead， will you let me go to Margaret McClellan's. P-l-e-a-s-e？” she wailed.

“I suppose you can try to think of something，” her father said halfheartedly. “But remember， I don't have to agree to it.”

Bea was determined to come up with some other punishment. Something her father couldn't turn down. There's no way I'm missing Margaret's sleepover， she thought.

Bea stayed in her room all afternoon， thinking. She stared out the window. No ideas. She listened to the radio. Still no ideas. She wrapped her favorite quilt around herself. But even that didn't give her any ideas.

Bea's mother brought her supper on a tray.

“I heard what you said to your father this morning， Bea. Maybe one day you'll learn that differences make people interesting. Why don't you try thinking of your father as... enthusiastic rather than obsessed？” Bea's mother hugged her and walked to the door. Suddenly she turned. “Oh， I almost forgot to tell you about your name.”

“What about it？” Bea asked.

“I know it sounds horrible to you， dear. But your father named you Bea after the honeybee. The first time he held you he said you were as sweet as honey.”

I certainly wasn't as sweet as honey this morning， Bea thought， feeling a little guilty.

“And Ursula is Nana's middle name，” Bea's mother continued. She paused， then said， “One more thing， dear. The perfect punishment might just be taking an interest in your father's work.”

“Bugs？” Bea asked， puzzled. “But I absolutely dislike bugs.”

Her mother didn't answer. She just winked and walked out of the room.

Bea knew her father secretly wished she would become an entomologist， too， one day. He was always showing her different specimens⑨ and giving her books like A Billion Beetles.

Mama's right， thought Bea with a sigh. The perfect punishment has been under my nose all along... bugs！

Bea spent the rest of the week taking an interest in bugs. On Tuesday， she read A Billion Beetles， The Excitement of Entomology， and Bugs Are Our Buddies.

On Wednesday， she watched Insects Are Interesting on video. She also studied the pictures in all the Insectology magazines， brushing up on her classification skills.

Bea paid her younger brother to imitate different insects on Thursday. She practiced naming them over and over. Of course， the praying mantis was a dead giveaway.

And last but not least， on Friday， Bea completed her very own caterpillar collection right in her bedroom. Her father had to be convinced that she was really， really sorry.

Finally， the moment arrived for Bea to put her plan into action. She began with a little dinner table conversation.

“Dad， did you know earwigs don't climb into people's ears at all？”

“Why， yes， Bea， I did know that. But when did you learn such impressive information？”

“Oh， I've been doing a little research. As you know， Dad， there are insects everywhere： indoors， outdoors， underground， and underwater. How could one justify not learning about them？” Bea quoted from Insects Are interesting.

“Bea！” her father exclaimed， his eyes round with excitement. “I couldn't agree with you more. And did you know scientists are still discovering insects？ To this very day， there are thousands left undiscovered. I find that simply thrilling，” he added.

“Me， too！” Bea agreed， catching a glimpse⑩ of her mother's smile.

“So， Dad， which insect do you find most fascinating？輥？輯？訛？ The butterfly larvae that imitate bird droppings？ Or maybe the bloody nose beetle？”

Her father stared at Bea with amazement. “Oh， Bea， those are both excellent suggestions， but... just a minute.” A look of confusion washed over his face.

“What's going on here？” he asked and pointed to Bea's “Have you hugged a bug today？” T-shirt.

“I'm sorry I behaved so badly Monday morning，” Bea apologized. “I thought of another punishment—learning to like bugs！”

“Bea has been studying all week， dear，” her mother said.

“She even has a caterpillar collection in her room，” added her brother， being helpful for once in his life.

“Yes，” her father said with a serious look， “it appears you have been working very diligently， Bea. And for that， I think you deserve to...”

He paused. Bea held her breath and crossed her fingers and toes.

“... be called Worker Bea！” he said with a hoot and slapped his knee.

This time Bea hooted， too. And so did her mother and brother. Bea looked into her father's laughing face. She realized that all her determination and hard work had been about making up to him—not about going to Margaret's.

Then Bea realized something else. Bugs weren't all that bad. In a weird sort of way， she had actually enjoyed learning about them.

“I don't believe you！” cried Margaret between fits of laughter.

“I promise！” Bea said， giggling and pointing to her copy of Insectology. “There really is a bug that imitates bird droppings！” Before Bea could turn the page， a stream of shaving cream shot across the bed. Bea squealed and reached for her can. It was definitely the best sleepover she'd ever been to.

Writing：

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