“Look, dad.”
My younger daughter showed me her specimen-viewing jar. I think she got it from her sister, who got it from well-meaning relatives who picked up some educational toys for the nieces and nephews at the local science museum gift shop once; her sister tired of it quickly.

A small plastic jar with a magnifying glass attached to the top. There was a fly buzzing around inside.

We were in a hurry to get to a restaurant on time, where we were meeting the grandparents for lunch before they left on a tour of Mallorca with the retired persons’ tour group they belong to.

Buzzing and buzzing. When he’d walk up the walls of the jar, out of range of the magnifying glass, she’d give it a good whack and he’d buzz around again.

The little naturalist.

“How did you ever get the fly into the jar?”

She brandished her hand like a secret weapon. “Just whacked him against the wall. He fell onto the floor, I stuck him in the jar and he woke up.”

The fly buzzed. Through the magnifying glass, it looked like a really big fly.