Sting Like a Bee

I knew I couldn't write this post unless I found a whimsical, non-threatening image to make me think happy thoughts. This one will do. I cannot stand to look at bee photos right now. On Friday evening, Buby, Grammy DJ and I were on route to meet Buby's Daddy at a cafe for jazz night. We were running ahead of schedule, so we stopped at the county airport to see if any planes were coming or going. Buby loves airplanes, and we do this often. I was standing by a big light post at the far end of the parking lot and Buby came up next to me and hopped on the base. Bees or wasps {not sure} suddenly shot out from nowhere and attacked us. It seemed like there were hundreds of them right there in the ground {of course, I exaggerate when traumatized, but that's what it seemed like.} I looked down and they were all around Buby's face, my arms, our legs. I'm not usually scared of bees... we have lots buzzing around our garden.. but these ones were suctioned to our skin. I screamed. Buby screamed. Grammy grabbed him. Wasps were up his shirt sleeves and shorts. He was hysterical.

Though Buby and I were both stung {Buby more than once}, it could have been much worse. Buby's Daddy is very allergic to bees, and who knew if Buby would have a dangerous reaction. My mind immediately went to that movie "My Girl" and the scene where little Thomas J. is attacked. An airport guy gave us ice and we ran to the pharmacist for Children's Benadryl.

Buby milked it for a bit. He was fine, but I'll never forget looking down and seeing all the bees swarming my baby's sweet face. My instincts and reflexes could've been much better. About an hour later, we were at that cafe with Daddy having a good time. Buby was dancing around in circles, and then the band decided to play "My Girl." Of course, I cried. The next morning Buby's Daddy was stung in the backyard. So there, now we all have our war wounds from the weekend!
image: google