Craig is your little eight year old brother. He has swarthy flesh that resembles your father's grayish-black bull-hide, but he has lighter blonde, almost silver, hair and haunting gray eyes that seem to penetrate, accuse and judge. Other children are intimidated by Craig, and he tends to be a very lonely child.
"I want to visit the bees," he says bluntly.
You sigh and shake your head. "Craig, those are yellow-jackets," you scold him. "They might sting you, and you could die." You know that much, anyhow.
"They never stung me," he says firmly.
Your mother says, "Benjamin, we have a first-aid kit with some emergency antihistamine under the sink in my bathroom. We have no bee sting allergy in the family, but keep your phone with you, just in case."
"But--" you start to object.
"He'll be safe with you there," she says firmly.
Craig, realizing the battle of wills has been won, looks a little apologetic towards you, and he says, "We can be careful. I just want to watch them."
Your bovine father rears up on his hind-hooves, his bare haunches tensing under his own weight, and with his jaws, he carefully pulls down a pair of antique binoculars off the top of the bookcase in the corner.
"Careful, Saul!" your mother scolds him as the tall bookcase creaks and grinds under his weight.
Saying nothing, your father drops the binoculars before Craig, and he quietly returns to the pallet where he rests after his early afternoon exercise and feeding, his pensive eyes gazing once more into the tablet on which he does his liturgical reading. You expect little other engagement out of him today...although you know that he and your mother are active enough at night.
You sigh, and you go to get the first-aid kit from out of your mother's bathroom while Craig takes the caps off of the binoculars and figures out how to use the dial on them to adjust the magnification. He is an uncommonly clever child, and these sorts of things come naturally to him. Why such a bright boy would waste his time watching some dumb yellow-jackets is beyond your comprehending.
Going out the large, swinging backdoor used by your father, you and Craig walk down through the pasture he shares with some other grazers in the area, some of whom are out getting their early dinners, and you and Craig make your way down to the grove where you and he had stumbled upon the bugs a few days ago.