You could explain to her that bugs have a role in the universe, and give the example of the honeybee.

BTW, I do LOVE bugs. I've even written about the American cockroach.

http://www.slywy.com/writings/american.html

And had Madagascan hissing cockroaches crawling on my arm. They have little Beatrix Potter faces. Honest.

Well, that's a good idea. Except I want her to resist snuffing out a life for the very reason that snuffing out a life is a big-ass decision to make, whether or not we think that life has a "role" or not. And is the moth's "role" in the universe superceded by my annoyance at the moth?

I realize I'm looking for a perfect answer where there is none. Perhaps the best answer is to do what you do, and find a way to differentiate "bugs" and marvel at each.

Come to think of it, I did that yesterday, by telling her I like ants because they're strong, and hard workers. I said if I was an ant, I could lift a car.

Of course, if I was an ant, she would have killed me by now.

We agree (or "we reach," if you've watched too much original Star Trek). I was just coming up with a reason that was simple given the age and had an ancillary lesson. Too many years of volunteer docenting will do that to you.

Who knows, maybe we are ants to someone.

Too much Ultimate Hitchhiker's Guide.

I'm calling the social workers about you, David.

Good things to ponder, Young Grasshopper. I once had a grasshopper show up in our house at 2 a.m. one morning and those buggers are LOUD and seeing that I value sleep above all we killed the sucker.

But I'm partial to lady bugs. I'd have to slap anyone who killed a ladybug. Go figure.

Eileen, there was a veritable pestilence of nonnative Japanese ladybugs in Chicago a couple of years ago. Slap me silly.

I once had a 45-minute standoff with a katydid. I set it outside to be one with nature. It came back in. I talked to it and set it outside. It came back in. I talked to it some more and set it outside. It came back in. Finally, I realized it wanted to watch the telly, so I let it. Eventually it got bored and left, as did I.

Ok, apparently I am the ONLY one here who completely ignored David's philosophical and very valid questions because I was utterly fixated on how unbelieveably cute it was that Scout offered to apologize to the squished bug.

I did an audible AWWWWWW!!! That is adorable! Too too cute!

Personally, if I can I'll usher a bug outside. I draw the line however at many-legged "anything-pedes" particularly when they appear out of nowhere and scare the bejezus out of me. In such a case, I plead instinct as my defense for reflex "squashing"

Thanks for all these lovely tales. Perhaps my passion on this subject comes from a moment I am STILL ashamed of. I was once playing golf on a beautiful course in Hilton Head, S.C. I missed a two-foot putt. I saw red. Actually, I saw a little red bug, crawling on the green near the hole. In my rage, I slammed my putter down on the bug.

This bug died for the crime of crawling near a golf hole where a giant asshole missed a putt for par. It seemed to me like such a symbol of human self-preoccupation and recklessness and general nastiness. I still get worked up thinking about it.

I should start a Bug Rights Group, a moderate outfit that believes we should only kill bugs when they are actually bugging us.

Bad karma, dude. Go read some Kafka.

Dead animals often serve very useful to humans as all fans of hamburgers and leather shoes know. But there are other uses as well. I once had a 4-year old who woudn't stop playing in the street. We tried everything to keep this kid on the sidewalk to no avail. One day I was driving with the kid in the car and saw a dead dog on the side of the road. You guessed it -- I pulled over and took my little girl by the hand and led her to the dead dog.

"Do you know why that dog is dead?"

"No, daddy, why?"

"Because he was PLAYING IN THE STREET!"

I never again had to worry about her playing in the street.

Will

Calling the social workers on you, too, Will Daniel.

I will offer the following with a caveat: I have no children so I have no experience/right/reason/call to offer advice on how to raise them. With that said, I'll dive in...

Perhaps a good starter is something along the lines of "just because you CAN do a thing doesn't mean you SHOULD." This opens the door to talk about valuing life in general (whether insect, human or other).

Of course, that's easy for me to say. I don't have to "walk the walk" after "talking the talk" with Scout. Just think how frustrated you're going to be trying to resist squashing bugs in front of her to set a good example! Your words may yet come back to bite you in the...

Cockroaches with little Beatrix Potter faces?

I had a pretty good bug-squashing eligibility checklist in my head that you've now blown all to hell, Diane. In order of importance, they were: Usefulness to humanity (and me in particular); Degree of annoyance, danger, or disease posed; venue (spiders in garden good, spiders in bathtub, bad.) And the tie breaker: are they cute?

It's all very scientific. God made good bugs cute (ladybugs, crickets, praying mantises, bumblebees, ants, etc.) and the bad ones ugly (cockroaches, flies, mosquitos with their blood-gorged bellies, etc.)

So now I have to get out a teensy little magnifying glass to check out their little expressions. Well, shoot. By then the mood will have passed.

Yes, the mood will have passed, Hammer. Because thanks to the sun's work through your magnifying glass, you will have burnt them to a cute little crisp.

I'm telling you, guys. This is a tough one.

Good point. Scratch the magnifying glass. As a society, we're far too concerned with looks anyway.

Speaking of which...what about the bugs we can't see at all? Ever think about the billions of micro-organisms our immune systems murder every day?

Let's all make ourselves crazy.

But back to your original dilemma. A simple Switzerland-like neutrality is probably the sanest approach: You don't bother me, I won't bother you--keeping in mind that the Swiss all bear arms in case someone should misunderstand the concept. Works for bugs, neighbors, in-laws, classmates, colleagues. The government? Not so much. But no plan's perfect.

Hammer, your bug policy is so pre-9/11.