Wednesday, September 11, 2013

A Bee in my Bonnet (or Under My Skirt)

So I had a bee - actually a hornet - trapped in the billowy fabric of my skirt.  It wasn't fun.

Yesterday I had all of the kids with me to watch Bridget's soccer game.  We were sitting on the bleachers on a beautiful day.  The sun was shining, the breeze was gently blowing, and I was surrounded by well behaved fans watching a soccer game. It was one of those days that everything seems perfect.  Except it wasn't because some of my kids are whiners.

There are one or two in particular that drive me bonkers with the whining trend they have committed themselves to.

They begged for a snack, ("No"), wanted to play at the playground instead of watching their sister ("No"), and tried to unsuccessfully human-pyramid themselves precipitously close to the out of bounds line ("No) With no other outlet for their whining tendencies, they focused on the bees.

There were just a couple of bees and hornets flying around and my kids started whining about how they wanted to go where there weren't any (like the playground).  I kept repeating that if they would just sit still, they won't get stung.  Isn't that suppose to be accurate?

Apparently the hornet stuck in my skirt didn't get the message.  I felt a weird little movement first by the waistband of my skirt.  (Picture a loose skirt like Ma Ingalls might have chosen if she went to Target today).  Turns out that funny little tickle was the rapid fluttering of hornet wings against my bare back.

I freaked out a little when I realized what it was.

First course of action:  crossing my legs for obvious sting prevention reasons.  Then I tried to lift up strategic sections of fabric while keeping the two kids sitting on my lap still.

"Ouch!"  That little sucker stung me on my knee.

He kept fluttering around.  Weren't they suppose to die once they stuck someone?  I felt a slight pinched feeling by my hand.  I couldn't tell if it was trying to sting me through the fabric or if there was one of his hornet buddies that came in for a  dramatic rescue operation.

I got the kids off and tried to look casual while billowing out my skirt and shimmying around a little to get it out.  Finally it skedaddled from the folds of fabric, leaving me with a swollen, painful knee.

Maybe it wasn't quite this big. 


But here's the worst part.  I couldn't get the appropriate sympathy necessary because I had just told the kids that they would be practically immune to bees if they just sat still.  If I told them I just got stung, they would probably run around like lunatics, screaming and waving their hands all haphazardly. 

Next time, though, I think I'll just let them scatter and try to outrun the hornets.

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