I wish bugs could speak English, so I could tell the fly impolitely buzzing around my ear in the computer lab to please stop.

“Winged sir, would you kindly stop flying around me and my school work; I’m trying hard to concentrate, and, no offense, but your presence is slightly distracting,” I would tell him.

“Dearest Madam, I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience I have brought forth. Had I known my buzzing was disrupting your studies, I wouldn’t have been flying around you so prominently. I will now cease my flying at this present location and travel to a different area worthy of my time,” the fly might say to me.

Actually, I don’t know what the fly would say to me if he knew English. Maybe he would explain his malicious intentions instead of the just intentions I assumed.

I wish bugs spoke English so I could reason with them, rather than attempt to kill them right away.

If bugs could speak English, I would ask the spider why he or she is in my bedroom.

Depending on what the spider’s intentions were, I would warn it that I was going to kill it if it didn’t leave. I might then be warned by the spider that his family would seek vengeance on his death, and then we’d try to reach some sort of compromise or negotiation.

I would remind the mosquito all that he has to live for. I would encourage him to choose wisely whether to stay in my apartment, or to follow my suggestion and leave.

I would warn the bee that’s about to sting someone that it will be an act of suicide and to consider more deeply whether committing to the painful act is worth it.

I would ask the ants why they are invading my grandparents’ house, and I would find a way to negotiate with them to leave.

I would ask a wandering butterfly where it loves to fly; I would listen to the woes of the whining wasps; I would discuss politics with moths.

While there are benefits to this scenario, there are also some concerns. If all bugs on the planet spoke and understood English, would they conspire against us and use their numbers to wipe humans out of existence or take over the world? Would they produce civilized societies and cultures due to their recently developed mental and linguistic capabilities? Would they develop moral beliefs and consequently engage in war with each other?

Bugs don’t speak English, and I can’t communicate with them using whatever languages they use. If I were an entomologist, I might know how they communicate, but for now I just know that they live, reproduce, die, produce some benefits for our planet that I’m not familiar with, and act as nuisances for my everyday life.

God’s creation can be difficult to understand, but in every fly impolitely buzzing around our faces, there is design and purpose.

I wish bugs understood English. But they don’t. And so I am forced to either practice patience or practice my tiny creature assassination skills.