After hoisting our neighbor's magnanimously huge ladder up to the side of our house and getting it safely adjusted (after wedging one leg up on a wooden block--that's safe, right?), I intrepidly began to climb. I had a snow brush/ice scraper in one hand and a can of cheap-o bee spray in the other. I started banging around in the formerly bee-infested eave (we've been spraying it for 3 days now) and low and behold about 5 bees flew out. One stung me on my elbow--which I had instinctively raised in front of my face while squealing like a girl.Now, you must know, my mother is deathly allergic to bees. She has to carry an Epi-pen bee sting kit with her at all times and administer a shot within 20 minutes of her sting in order for her throat not to close and suffocate her. I have wondered my whole life whether or not I would have to do the same.
Back to my stinging story. I checked my arm to make sure the bee and stinger weren't lodged in my arm, then my adrenaline kicked in. I decided that even if I only had 20 minutes left to live, at least I'd make sure the bees nest was taken care of. I ran inside the house, found some Children's Benadryl in the medicine cabinet and took a way-too-huge swig.
I decided that if I was gonna take one for the team, at least I'd finish the game and come out the winner. With the clock ticking, I went back outside to the ladder, and armed with Dan's bike flashlight in my mouth and his wooden hockey stick, I wreaked havoc on the bees nests. There were two bee nests each the size of salad plates that I scraped out of the eaves, picked up with tongs and tied up in plastic bags, then deposited in the garbage can. I climbed the ladder once more, sprayed the area again, then climbed down the ladder to find someone to tell about my fatal sting when I realized I was breathing just fine, a little tingly from the adrenaline (and Benadryl), but not headed for the grave just yet.
And now I understand why Dan dances, screams, and shouts when he gets a sting, and why they are called a sting, those things HURT! But at least there are a few hundred less bees in our neighborhood.
