Thursday, April 3, 2014

Flight (And Death) Of the Bumblebee

I do not like animals.

I'm sorry, I know that probably most of you do, but unfortunately, it is not a sentiment I share.  I'm all for conserving and saving the planet and taking care of what God has given us, but just saying to all the activist vegetarians reading this: bacon is really good.

This story is yet another reason why I do not like animals.  I've already told you about how I sat on dog poop, but it was much, much worse than that.

It started off when I came up from sixth period tennis.  I was carrying my two bags, both of which are gigantic, and I sat down to wait for my ride.

One point or another, we all (everybody else who was waiting) realized there was a bee in our general vicinity.

So we were all like, Let's kill it!  Except none of us could.  SO...we waited for a while until I finally decided to TAKE.  SOME.  ACTION.

I was a soccer player in my youth (I'm fourteen) and so I did what I do best: I kicked it.

It traveled a couple of feet (apparently I was rusty) and I kicked it again.

This time, it *kaboomed* into different parts (or so I thought).  And I went back and sat down and changed my shoes and waited.

My dad came, I shoved my stuff into the car, and sat down.

And instantly regretted everything I've ever had to do with bees.

It HURT!  It was like somebody jabbed a needle up into my upper thigh!  And it's especially painful when you have a vivid imagination (like me) and have learned from science books that bees have venom (like me).  So I was envisioning red-hot fire soaring through my veins and taking over my blood vessels and stuff.

I didn't want to move, so I rode the entire five-minute drive home with my leg up.

It was not fun.

When I got out of the car (the pain had diminished, thank gargoyles), I looked back and I saw A BEE.

Whether it was the same bee, or a different bee, or a dumb bee, or a smart bee, it was there and it was wriggling around.  

I was all like, DIE, BEE, DIE!  (not really.  I couldn't look it in the eye, though.)

So I walked inside, my dad put it out of its misery, and we tried to look for the stinger on my thigh, but either it had fallen out or it had jabbed into my leg more.

I hope it fell out.

Just like the topic of "animals" fell down ten more notches on my "Approval" list.


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