My kids just came running in the house, slamming the door behind them, all out of breath.  Between huffs and puffs, they managed to tell a tale of bees gone berzerk.  They have been doing that a lot lately.  The bees.

It all started several weeks ago when my oldest son stepped on a bee and it stung him on his toe.  He is one tough kid, but you woulda thought someone cut his toe OFF.  It was a ginormous wasp, he breathed, in between moans.  Moans.  Turns out, it was a yellow jacket.  Which is slightly smaller and less lethal than a wasp, but painful just the same.

A couple weeks later, their dad mowed right through a yellow jacket nest that was buried in the grass weeds grass.  They went crazy and  bit him directly on the butt-ocks (that's a Forrest Gump reference, in case you missed it).  They've been mad as hell at him and everyone else in this family ever since.  You don't MESS with a yellow jacket's weed house.

So now, all bees are cra-zazy around my family.  According to them.  I mean, those kids are freaked.  I just went outside to close the garage door (something they dare not try because of the dive bombing bee swarm) and there are no bees in sight.  Hm.  There are, however, bikes and scooters and skateboards and helmets scattered everywhere.  There are only three kids, and yet there are about 50 things with wheels and things that are associated with things with wheels scattered all across the driveway.  There's even a helmet hanging on one of the bushes, where it was flung in a state of near hysteria.

I have yet to see the first bee.  But I have enjoyed the mental pictures my family has created for me regarding their evil intentions.  I can just imagine the hub's high-stepping around the front yard.  I base my vision on the memory of him high-stepping across the yard once when he refused to stop mowing until a giant lightning bolt cracked down practically in front of him.  And the way things were strewn across the driveway gives me all the clues I need to picture the scene that occurred when the bee swarm attacked my precious babies just a little while ago.

I wish I had been a neighbor happening to look out the window at just the right time.  Between the screaming match in the street, my daughter traipsing through the neighborhood in a pink wig and red high heels, the weird games my kids create, the bees and the getups my kids wear (right now, the youngest is walking around with my hubby's old glasses, a prepster ribbon belt with drumsticks tucked into it, and a cape).  Well, let's just say there's never a dull moment at our house.


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