"WHAT??? I AM NOT A SQUIRREL! I DON'T WANT TO GO POTTY ON THE GROUND! MOMMY! WHERE'S THE REAL POTTY?"
The child has one volume sometimes... but she succeeded. We survived. But while exiting the playground, just in the small space created when a shoe flexes as you walk, a bee flew in and stung my foot. I squealed, jumped, popped off the shoe. "Mommy you threw a BEE away! Silly Mommy..." Stupid bee. Well, maybe stupid me... see the photo from yesterday's post? Obviously my choice of clothing tempted the bee beyond its power of control. Who to blame... hmm...
Hobbling now, I carried bag, baby, and kid in tow, pausing to look at a dog they liked, the stinger unfortunately going deeper with every step. I made it to the van, belted them into car seats, handed out juice boxes to buy myself time, had a look at the damage and realized that I am now part bee... as in, with swelling, there was no way I could get all the stinger out now. I scraped at it with my health insurance card (if anything should have worked, it was that, right?) and tweezed and grimaced and gave up and applied ice. Well, applied the side of my iced coffee anyway.
Sometime later, after realizing that--in all the excitement--I had forgotten about a dentist appointment, and following a phone call about it with a secretary who acted rather like a female canine, I realized I felt sick. Flu-like symptoms. Being a busy mom, I decided to drink more water. It was only when the nausea hit hard while driving my kids home from soccer, and feeling like I was going to pass out, that I realized I needed more than extra water. After making it home, my husband gave me two benadryl... and I felt 100% better in 20 minutes. Which means, if I'm doing the math right, that I have a mild allergy to bee venom. Fantastic. I will add this to my growing list of medical marvels.
I'm better today, and enjoying the rain, sadistically hoping the bees are getting wet somehow... I've always disliked and feared them. So afraid that my mom had to put masking tape over the picture of a bee in my dictionary as a kid. When I was two, I decided to pet a bumblebee (I'm told) and was stung on the hand... so the bee terror has existed ever since I can remember. When I ran crying inside because "there's a bee out there," I was always told, "Don't bother them, and they won't bother you." Which has turned out to be abundantly untrue. How have they stung me? Let me count the ways!
- Stung in the face while walking in the woods (hornet was flying one way, I was heading the other)
- Reaching up to fix my hair, bee on barrette. I was in a college class. I shrieked. The professor, the dear Dr. Marshner, said, "Madam, are you terrified of that creature?" He picked up the nearest guy's backpack, slammed it onto the bee on my desk; the class roared with laughter, while he continued teaching as though nothing had happened. This was probably the most entertaining time, followed by this close second
- Sitting on a bee that was between couch cushions. While with a date at a formal dance. Oy.
I think this is the only other time... Never had a reaction before. This was a honeybee; besides the hornet, the rest were yellow jackets. Huh. Go figure.
Obvious moral of the story: ladies, beware your choice of clothing this summer. Animals and insects may not be able to control themselves. :)
Oooo I get to look up a Bible verse on bees: "Compared to most flying things, a bee is very small, but the honey it makes is the sweetest of foods." Sirach 11:3 Hmm. And their sting is a big pain in the... well, one might add that, for realism... just saying. :)