Putting the Bug Catcher Into Perspective

When I was seven years old, I got three dollars a week of allowance. I usually spent it on bubblegum or really cheap stuffed animals. Then one day, when I was with my parents at Wal-Mart, I snooped through the "summer toys" section to come across the most incredible toy ever, in my mind- an insect catcher. It was made of clear plastic and the lid had an opening that you could slide open, then snap shut, in order to catch the bugs. There was a net on one side of the container so that the bugs would be able to breathe. I was flabbergasted at the idea that such a wonderful invention existed, but I knew that my parents would never buy me this toy. They would tell me to get a Ziploc bag or tupperware instead. Those caught bugs too. But this was a special bug catcher and it cost fifteen dollars.

It took me four good months of saving up allowance in order to buy this insect catcher (I spent a bit of it on bubblegum, so it slowed down the "saving" process). At last, I proudly handed my loonies and toonies to the cashier and brought home a brand new toy. It was an incredible achievement. The first thing I did was go to the park. I collected as many bugs as I could find- ants, potato bugs, earthworms, ladybugs, grasshoppers. I even snatched a few millipedes, curled up like liquorice spirals, and they dropped like little candies into the plastic container. I was at the park all afternoon until it got grey outside and the owls began to hoot. That was when I caught the most beautiful moth I had ever seen (bleach white wings with red dots like eyes on them).

I was overly excited to run home and show my parents all my findings. When I was about to cross the street to get to my house, I tripped on a root that was cracking the sidewalk, and my insect catcher fell out of my hand. The plastic lid popped off immediately, and the net skidded across the pavement and tore into shreds. I was so shocked that I didn't even feel the blood forming around a fresh cut on my knee. I watched in horror as the millipedes unravelled themselves and slithered into the darkness, followed by a row of ants. The ladybugs buzzed away and the moth found solace at the nearby streetlamp.

I cried myself to sleep that night. It was the first time I had been truly disappointed in myself, and the regret swept over me in waves. At moments I was calm as the Red Sea and the next I was in a fit of frustration. My parents explained to me that it was a really cheap toy, and that a bowl works just as well as a fifteen dollar insect catcher. But I felt that all my hard effort had gone to waste. The anxiety built up inside of me and threatened to escape, just like the moth that violently slammed its wings against the claustrophobic walls of the insect catcher. I look back at how I felt, and it seems foolish that I was so upset about such a trivial thing. I write about this experience because I am certain that when I am older, I will look back at the anxiety I have today and reminisce in amusement. The millipedes have turned into bad thoughts and the ants are bouts of irrational anger, but these new anxieties that I fill myself with are just as childish as the ones I had when I was seven years old. Maybe the only way I can free myself of my worries is to simply laugh at them.