BuZZworthy

Buzzworthy

Why did a wasp wedge its skinny striped self into my shoe by the door? Isn’t there some kind of code between bees and human inhabitants? Shouldn’t he have at least buzzed his presence before I slid an unsuspecting and tired foot into what I thought was my shoe? Let me assure you, when a wasp wants it, your footwear is not yours anymore!

A quick errand to the supermarket started the stinging affair. Who thinks of checking a shoe? Not me … but that policy is now revised.

As I hurriedly slipped on the right shoe, I felt what I thought was a little pebble, a stony bumpy thing. I took off and shook the shoe, but nothing rolled out, so I slipped it back on and started out the door.

Again! A “thing”, what is that?  pressed hard against my sole, but I pushed forward toward the door. Bad idea, because then the hard annoying thing burned! Until I understood I had been stung, it felt like a red-hot rock burning!

I flung off the shoe and there he was, gasping his last little bee breath.

Apparently, the weight of my wrath did not settle well around the waspy invader.

Panicked, I sat down and saw the welt growing larger on my foot bottom, as the fright mounted inside me, and I rubbed and watched it turn red and swell fast and furious.

I may be allergic and I don’t know what kind of bee bit me, but more importantly, what if I couldn’t walk? 

Adrenaline coursed through my veins at an alarming rate. I could feel my heart beat faster and my blood pressure spike from fear.

Because he stung the bottom of my foot, callused soul skin saved me. (A case for “thick skin” and sparse pedicures if I ever heard one!)

Once, I got stung on my fleshy arm and had to go to the hospital because the swollen lump grew so large and my breathing changed to challenging. That’s when I found out I am allergic to bee stings. But maybe only certain kinds of bees….

As it turns out, my little bee buddy didn’t get a good bite. I probably scared him more than he scared me.

We both limped away.

Me stung.

Him stunned.                       

I lived.

He died.

Just Another Lori Story