In addition to a wealth of bona fide bumbebees, the air is often buzzing with large, loud, and, to my granddaughter Stasia, genuinely terrifying bumblebee mimics known as Robber Flies, perhaps because the fierce predators rob the "souls" of the species they resemble and, deftly, pluck out of the sky and eat. They do not, I keep telling Stasia, bother us, so we have nothing to fear... and everything to enjoy about Robber Fly watching. That said, maybe it was best that she wasn't around to watch with me today. Oh, I have no problem filling her in on the "facts of life," so when she spots creatures in their characteristic mating positions and wants to know what's going on, I simply tell her. But there will come a time when this wonderfully curious kid will certainly wonder if there's a human correlate here, or, more specifically, if this pretty-near-impossible procreation position bears any resemblance to how mommy and daddy created her. As a teaching naturalist, I've been asked variations on this very question many times. I try to keep my answers neutral and on the order of a straightforward discourse on animal anatomy, along with my amazement that the two flies can fly that way. As to the other part of the question, I do what any teacher would do: I refer the asker to the parents.