STUNG

I should honestly be protecting them. Conserving their natural environment, ensuring that they have adequate habitat and generally being grateful for their existence. But right now, I wish bees had never shoved their stripy little butts onto the Ark.

I got stung on Sunday whilst innocently carrying a small child. Granted, bending over to pick up a pair of shoes and put them on my feet would not have been difficult, but one hardly expects to tread on a bee and then suffer the consequences. I'm sure if I hadn't ground him again and again into his final resting place (a patch of miniature daisies) he might have cried defensively out, 'But I was only minding my own business! This is, after all, my home! YOU intruded on ME not the OTHER WAY ROUND.'
But, thankfully his buzzing was silenced by a quick slap of the heel. Thinking back, it did no good but to terrify the young child and forever make it think of starting Anti-Bee-Cruelty campaigns. Luckily, she was too young to talk.

However, now I am frantically (even as I type this) scratching at my swollen foot. It is Tuesday, friends. My friend's sting last year simmered down after 24 hours. I am convinced that I was cursed in this little bugger's last moments.
Moral of the story: decide to wear shoes no matter how warm the weather, look through tufts of grass or flowers BEFORE stepping there and, very honestly, teach children that cruelty to wildlife is unacceptable.
(I'm sure that if my parents had taught me that instead of fooling around with Play-Do Fun Factories, I would not be itching like this. ^^)

I am NEVER eating honey again. How's that for boycotting?!!