So there's not really a pretty way of saying this, but today I got stung in the ass by a bee. Technically, it was the left upper rear thigh area, but for the sake of added comedy, we'll just call it my ass.
That little buzzer – not the term used in the moment – literally came out of nowhere as I was loading up the second kiddo in his car seat after procuring both boys from the sitter.
The following is an accurate reproduction of my thought process during the (very brief) course of the incident.
-- Ok, we're gonna get home, then I can-
-- What the...
-- Holy Balls, I've been shot!
-- We need to move immediately! Gunfire?? This neighborhood is clearly too dangerous for children!!
-- No. Wait, I never heard a gunshot...did the assailant use a silencer? Am I being targeted by a secret government agency?
-- Note to self: stop binge watching season 3 of Scandal at bedtime.
-- Pull yourself together woman, the children are here.
-- Reassess. I wasn't shot. If I stick my hand down my pants, I don't feel an open wound.
-- Maybe a bee---
-- Oh, hi there blonde soccer mom ironically driving a white Suburban. I'm just hanging out by my Mazda with my hand down my pants and clearly, you're just driving by, not judging me.
-- Son of a --- children! There are children present!! One of whom repeats like a damn parrot. Watch your mouth lady. Seriously.
-- ...BITCH (f*ck it, I am in PAIN. Like real pain. And I delivered two babies without anesthesia...so I believe I know pain).
-- Is this what it feels like to die?
-- Sweet Jesus. Am I allergic to bees? I mean, I know I've been stung before, but it has never felt like this. Like a tiny flaming drill bit filled with firecrackers...??
-- Oh no. My breathing feels shallow. Oh, God. I'm dying. It's anaphylaxis for sure.
-- I'm dying and my children are strapped in their car seats on a summer afternoon.
-- What will happen to them if I die right here in front of the sitter's house? I should leave the door open, or at least roll the windows down...
-- Can they prosecute me posthumously for child endangerment?
-- Maybe it wasn't a bee. A venomous spider? Or snake? Are either of those indigenous to this area?
-- Damn it all. Why did all the smart genes go to my brothers?
-- Where's my phone? I need to Google 'venomous snakes native to Missouri that can crawl up your pants leg undetected and kill you'
-- I can't see. I'm blinded by the pain. I'm blind and all I want to do is look into my children's eyes one last time before I step into the light.
-- I'm okay.
-- Mommy's okay.
-- I can see again.
-- I think I can bear weight on the leg...peas and CARROTS that still stings like a mother bumper!! What is wrong with me?? And when did I learn to curse like a Disney Junior character?
-- Okay. Get home. Get in the car and drive home. You're acting like a lunatic.
-- ouch -- ouch -- ouch --
-- Maybe I'll opt for the anesthesia for the next baby. I am clearly not as badass as I thought.
-- ...or I really am dying...
I didn't die. It got better. But honestly, it was touch and go for a minute there. That bee (or ninja venomous snake) is a real son of a biscuit and we are not friends.