Tuesday, September 11, 2007

The Life of Bees

A few nights ago, we had Bella's cousins (Aidan and Natalie) and their folks (Mark's brother Scott and his wife Nadja) over for dinner. Chaos always ensues (good chaos mind you) and toys are scattered throughout the house and into the backyard.

While I was tidying up the back patio, around the sandbox, in the dark (save for an outdoor light), I felt something sharp on my foot. We've been doing lots of work in our backyard (currently it is reminiscent of a war zone) so I thought I had stepped on a nail or some glass. I shook my foot, annoyed that we had let something like that go unnoticed around children. Then I realized that all my shaking wasn't making a difference. I looked down and saw a bee, holding on for dear life, stinging me. I must have stepped on it while it was trying to hunker down for the night.

So, there I was, being stung and the first thing that came to mind when I realized what was happening was "Am I allergic to bees? Am I going to need Bella's epi-pen?" Thankfully, I'm not. And I'm afraid I weigh a bit too much for her epi jr.

What are the odds of there being a bee right there? I mean, you read so much about bees dying out - maybe they are just all coming to my backyard?

Anyways, the sting, it hurt, alot. It was on my pinky toe. So I played my martyr card and got to sit on the comfy chair the rest of the night, feet up on the ottoman, glass of wine in hand.

Breathing. Thankfully.

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