I am terrified of bees. Partly due to allergies (I don’t go into shock, but I swell up, vomit, etc); partly due to the fact that these suckers have stingers and they seem to thrive on attacking you.
It’s been unseasonably warm here in Nebraska. High 50’s yesterday, and a freak yellow jacket decided to chill right next to me. I swear, they are drawn to my fear. I don’t mind insects, but when I see one of these, I scream like a little girl and run around all sorts of dramatic. Then when this disgusting creature decides to land on my littlest boy, I get crazy. I don’t know if my children have received this wonderful gift of a bee allergy from me, and I don’t want to find out. I turn into one of those mothers who say things like, “Get away from my baby!” and all that’s missing is me flailing my arms around and gasping for air while I say it. For all I know, I was behaving in that manner!
SHUDDER. SHUDDER. SHUDDER.
No, this wasn’t wordless.
OK, one more SHUDDER for the road.