Muddy Paws (Bedtime Story)

Bedtime with Mrs.

Honeybee.

Today,

In the Honeybee neighborhood,

We'll be thinking about what is really most important.

Mrs.

Honeybee,

Have you seen my new shoes?

Aww,

Those shoes look great on you,

Melanie B.

They look lovely.

Which size are they,

Melanie B?

Let me see here.

It says here they are extra,

Extra,

Extra,

Extra,

Extra,

Extra,

Extra,

Extra small.

Well,

They fit my bee feet perfectly.

I love,

Love,

Love my new shoes.

The weather report isn't calling for rain today,

So your new shoes are all set to sparkle.

Oh no.

Well,

What if the weather is wrong?

What if it does rain?

I'll just stay inside today.

Maybe all days.

I don't want to get my new shoes muddy.

They're perfect.

Melanie B,

You're so silly.

Shoes are meant to be used.

But the mud.

Don't worry,

Melanie B.

Just enjoy your new shoes.

And you have to show our little Honeybee when they get here.

Oh,

Oh,

Oh.

I'll do a fashion show.

All you have to do is close your eyes,

Get cozy,

And listen to the sound of my voice.

Mrs.

Honeybee will be your guide.

Let's begin.

You are here enjoying the soft sunshine on the walk to our house.

Take a slow,

Deep breath in through your nose.

Feel the bright sunshine on your skin and lighting up your spirit.

Then slowly breathe all the way out through your mouth and bask in it fully.

With your face tilted up to the sky,

You realize that suddenly the sun has slipped behind a cloud and just as suddenly it has begun to rain.

Sprinkles of refreshingly cool raindrops mist your face and you wipe your eyes clear just as you round the corner and see us out in the driveway washing the car.

The sun and sprinkling has temporarily interrupted our morning chores,

But Harold doesn't seem to notice a bit.

With his extra long leash tethered to the center of the front yard,

He utilizes every inch of lead to run in happy circles playing in the summer rain.

When he sees you,

He yanks against the length of the leash trying to get closer to you as you approach.

You run up to him with your arms out expecting to swoop him up into your arms as you usually do.

Before you can,

Mr.

Honeybee distracts your attention and intervenes into a potentially muddy situation.

Little Honeybee,

No,

Wait,

He's all muddy.

A little mud never hurt anyone,

My dear.

Oh,

Oh,

Not true.

When has mud hurt someone?

Mudslides,

And not the delicious one.

Or when mud caked onto your mountain bike so badly that your bike was almost eaten by the mud.

Oh yeah,

But then we got those big old mud tires.

But still.

Exactly,

The charges against mud have been dropped.

Enjoy the mud if you so choose,

My little Honeybee.

You bend down in the dewy grass,

Able to pet a very happy Harold without figuring into the mud debate,

But not for long.

Harold's puppy smile fades from omnidirectional excitement to a very focused,

Mission-oriented game of chase.

You knew that look that lingered in his eye and knew what he was going to do well ahead of when he did it.

So you began to flee before he could even think about getting you.

Together,

You and Harold run in circles around the stake in the grass that tethers his leash.

Staying in that radius,

You leap into the air,

Making a game out of evading his muddy paws.

He wins the prize of a couple paw prints on your leg,

But the drizzling summer rain washes them away.

In all of your playing,

Mr.

Honeybee and I are cheering on the sidelines of the driveway,

Still holding the sponge stick and pail from our abandoned project of washing the car.

Oh,

Whoa,

Watch out,

My little Honeybee.

Here he comes.

Phew,

Just missed him and those muddied paws.

Harold is on your tail,

My little Honeybee.

You look back to look at us,

And in that quick moment,

Harold leaps up into the air.

Just about to land in your arms to transfer all of his muddiness to you.

But Mr.

Honeybee thinks quickly and with a towel outstretched,

Catches Harold in a bundle that contains the mud and barely contains all of Harold's swarms.

Gotcha,

Boy.

Phew,

That sure was close.

Now that Mr.

Honeybee is holding Harold,

I walk over to unlatch his leash from the tether.

Mr.

Honeybee is having trouble containing all of Harold's squirms.

He's not done with his game of chase,

And the zoomies have taken over.

Harold boy,

Let's calm down a bit.

We'll get you cleaned up,

Then we can play fetch out back.

How about that?

Harold won't hear any of it,

Or simply cannot hear any of it over the sounds of play blaring in his own mind.

You and I start cleaning up the car washing equipment since the rain is washing the car for us,

And you take this sponge stick that helps us clean the very top of the car in your hands,

As well as the pail of soapy water.

On our way back to the garage to put away the car washing stuff,

Our arms are full,

But not as full as Mr.

Honeybee's.

Harold wiggles one last powerful wiggle and frees himself from the constraints of Mr.

Honeybee's arms.

He flings his tiny fluffy body through the air,

And we all watch in what feels like slow motion until he lands on his paws.

Without hesitation,

He runs straight for the muddiest puddle that has formed in the grass and rolls around in it like the happiest pig in a mud bath.

Mr.

Honeybee stands defeated at the edge of the grass,

Holding a towel that suddenly becomes mesmerizing to Harold like a bull to a matador's red cape.

No,

No,

No!

Harold,

No!

Harold charges at the towel that Mr.

Honeybee is struggling to hide behind at all costs.

After a few passes back and forth through the hanging towel,

Whooshing past Mr.

Honeybee and leaving splashes of mud in his wake,

Harold loops around the car and belly flops into a second muddy puddle that has formed.

The summer rain continues to fall,

Conspiring with Harold to become even more muddy.

You and I think quickly to grab for more towels to help Mr.

Honeybee try to contain a very muddied Harold and join him in the grass out in front of our house.

We each take a towel in a corner and hold out the outstretched towel in our hands,

Attempting to get close enough to Harold that we wrap him up in a towel cocoon.

Harold,

Newly delighted,

Makes this into a fun game by darting between us.

All the commotion on the grass keeps our focus there,

And we do not see Melodybee come out of the garage wearing her brand new sparkling white shoes.

Thinking we were in the garage because she heard us all laughing and chasing after Harold,

She opens the screen door and struts her best strut out into the empty garage.

Trying to find us and an audience of admirers to see her brand new shoes,

She budges to the edge of the garage and sticks her hand out from under the covering to see if it's still raining.

The summer rain has subsided for a moment,

And now is her moment to shine,

Just like the sun that's peeking back out from behind the clouds.

Take a slow,

Deep breath in through your nose as you dart after Harold.

Feel your chest and your spirits lift as your cheeks gather into a big smile that gets even bigger.

Then,

Slowly,

Breathe all the way out through your mouth,

Just as you see the sparkle of Melodybee's new white shoes out of the side of your eyes.

Ahem.

Hello,

Everyone.

Melodybee struts out into the driveway,

Paying no mind to what we're doing out here.

She is consumed by her new shoes and her fashion show,

And walks an invisible catwalk all the way down the driveway with her back to us on the grass.

All of us,

Including Harold,

Turn to look at her,

And,

Again,

Time slows down to slow motion.

Melodybee twirls around,

Basking in the glory of her gleaming shoes,

Just in time to see Harold galloping toward her.

He no longer looks like the fluffy white dog we all know and love.

Oh,

No.

Now he looks like a mud puddle that has come to life in the shape of a little dog.

Beside himself with excitement,

Harold wraps himself around Melodybee's legs and feet.

She's flabbergasted and cannot muster a reaction to the situation.

Beyond a single gasp.

Oh,

No.

Oh,

My goodness.

Melodybee,

Are you okay?

You're,

You're,

You're okay.

Right,

Melodybee?

Melodybee,

Frozen with shock,

Trying to process what just happened,

Stares blankly into the distance that Harold is merrily running around in.

He notices that we're no longer playing the game and looks around to see what's changed.

Not finding anything,

He finally lays at my feet,

Sprawled out and muddied in the grass,

Panting as if waiting for us to realize that we're not playing.

Melodybee?

I slowly approach her with my hand outstretched and the towel hanging down from my other hand.

I wave in front of her stare a few times to bring her back from the distance.

She doesn't respond to my wave,

But the summer thunderstorm gets her attention just before a downpour.

No,

I'll never be okay again.

I'm the opposite of okay.

Mr.

Honeybee scoops Harold up from rolling around in the rain,

And we follow Melodybee under the cover of the garage.

By now,

Harold is exhausted,

And he very much enjoys being wrapped in a towel and carried by Mr.

Honeybee.

We join Melodybee in a circle around her muddy shoes that used to sparkle so bright.

She angrily takes them off her feet,

Lashing at the shoelaces before her anger subsides back to sadness.

Harold sees how upset she is and leans himself down as far as he can to give her a few good puppy kisses on the cheek.

She looks up at him and cannot stay mad at such a sweet creature as Harold,

But she has nowhere to put how upset she is at the outcome of what should have been a fabulous fashion show.

I think I'm a little bit more okay than I thought I was before.

Wish I could stay the same for my new shoes.

Look at them.

They're ruined.

Well,

Melodybee,

What about this?

We have to give Harold a bath.

Yes,

Little guy,

It can be a bubble bath.

We have to give Harold a bubble bath anyways.

Let's give your shoes a bubble bath,

Too.

I have shoe polish and heavy-duty cleaners somewhere in these cabinets,

So we can try those,

Too.

I'm so sorry,

Harold.

I mean,

This happened to you,

Shoes.

You were so comfy and sparkling,

Clean and delightful.

Come on,

Melodybee.

Let's give it a try.

They'll be as good as new.

I will try,

But my heart will not be in it.

We'll see how long that lasts.

None of us do anything without our whole heart.

Mrs.

Honeybee,

I am not in a place to acknowledge how right you are.

I need to mope.

We understand,

Melodybee.

My little Honeybee,

Let's go get the bubble bath ready.

We'll be ready when you are,

Melodybee.

Mr.

Honeybee grabs some extra fuzzy towels and his strongest shoe cleaner from the garage,

And we head to the bathtub,

Trusting that Melodybee will join us when she's ready.

You start the bath and test out the temperature to make sure it's just right.

Warm and soothing to the touch,

With just a hint of coolness to refresh,

And certainly not too hot.

Take this peaceful moment with your hands swaying through the rising bath water to take your slowest,

Deepest breath in through your nose.

Sink both of your arms into the warmth of the water up past your elbows,

And lightly splash some further up your arms to enjoy a mini bath for yourself.

Then,

Slowly,

Breathe all the way out through your mouth as we gently lower Harold into the water.

Are we going to make our own bubbles today,

My dear?

Of course!

These are the biggest bubbles by far.

Harold loves bubbles!

And I love that they're all natural,

So he can chomp on them all he wants.

Once there's a couple inches of water in the tub,

I hand you the enormous bottle of Castile soap.

Using both hands,

You slowly pour the soap out under the faucet to make the most bubbles possible.

While you do that,

I mix in a bit of sugar for extra exfoliation,

And crack one of our farm fresh eggs into the bath,

Careful to let only the egg white out of the shell.

This is a little trick I learned.

Egg whites make the bubbles stronger,

So they can grow bigger and much more fun.

Mr.

Honey Bee drizzles in some honey,

Half hoping to attract Melody Bee from her sorrows in the garage,

And half for the cleansing and restorative properties of honey itself.

Did you know that honey never,

Ever expires,

My little honey bee?

Honey that is over 3,

000 years old has been found in the tombs of the Egyptian pharaohs.

And that honey is still perfectly preserved and edible.

It's true.

There is an interesting science behind it,

Too.

Honey has… Before Mr.

Honey Bee can finish his sentence,

Melody Bee mopes into the bathroom doorway and mope-ily finishes it for him.

Antimicrobial properties that make it last forever.

It's really bee alchemy that makes honey so special.

There's just enough hydrogen peroxide that's infused in the process of making honey,

Which I'll spare you from,

That it fights off any potential bacteria from growing.

So typically,

Anything watery that finds itself in honey will become more or less sterile.

Well,

More sterile.

Because the naturally occurring enzymes stop the little bacterial organisms from spreading.

One of the many wonders of us honey bees.

Melody Bee,

It's so nice to see you smiling,

Even if it's a little one.

Honey Bee never ceases to amaze me.

Wow.

With attention brought to it,

Melody Bee manually diminishes the smile from her face,

But acknowledges that Harold's bubble bath smells delicious.

Her smile cannot help but grow as she plays in the gigantic bubbles that have formed.

You and Melody Bee try to pick them up out of the bath one by one and hold them up to your heads to compare sizes.

The bubbles are even bigger than your heads before Harold pops them.

Without distracting Melody Bee from her regained joy,

We each quietly and slowly grab one of Melody Bee's shoes that have fallen to the floor without her realizing it.

We dunk them into the bath and scrub them really well,

Getting into all the tiny nook and crannies of these tiny white shoes.

The restored gleam we achieve on the shoes gets her attention.

Aw,

They really do clean up nicely,

Don't they?

See Melody Bee,

As good as new.

Melody Bee suspiciously takes one of her shoes into her own hands and inspects them under a scrupulous gaze.

Looking at their soles,

The folds at the top,

And each of the seams.

No,

No,

Tinged.

These are tinged forever now.

They're never going to be brand new again.

That gives them character,

Melody Bee.

Oh yeah,

Good point Mrs.

Honey Bee.

Just like my work boots,

I couldn't wait for those to be caked in mud and dirt.

It's a way to remember all the hard work I put in while wearing them.

Or like the calluses that form on the bottom of your feet,

The ones that it tickles us to remove during pedicures.

You know those?

Well,

Those are a sign of working feet as well.

Experienced hikers wear them like a badge of honor.

I have some friends that even insist on hiking barefoot because their feet won't let them slip as easily as some shoes.

Isn't that something?

Character,

Huh?

So,

I can look at these tinged bits and remember this moment.

Exactly.

I can look at these somewhat dingy,

Accidentally off-white shoelaces and remember this sweet-smelling bath.

There you go.

Okay,

Move over Harold.

This honey bath is irresistible.

Melody Bee plunges into the bubbles and emerges inside of one,

Fluttering her wings dry.

Harold jumps up to chomp it and successfully pops the bubble.

She tries to make him his very own bubble and busies herself with that instead of sulking about her shoes.

It was a good reminder for Melody Bee and for us that things,

Even precious things or irreplaceable things,

Are still just things no matter how much we love them.

And it's perfectly okay to love them,

But things are like vessels,

Little compartments that carry what's even more important,

Which are memories.

As soon as something has a physical form,

Gravity and all the other forces at play begin to do the work that they do in time.

Cherished memories choose to take up residence in these things,

But when they break or we lose them,

Our memories go back to their real home in our hearts.

Always remember,

Mrs.

Honey Bee believes in you.

You are special and you are loved.

I can't wait to see you again.