The Secret Life (and Death) of Bees

My neighbor Sheila came knocking on my door yesterday, her eye swollen shut and watering like a fury. It seems that an angry crop of bees came pouring out of a small hole in her ceiling upstairs while she was putting laundry away, and took her quite by surprise.

Despite pressing a cold compress against her poor face, which was really quite puffy after such an ordeal, she was kind enough to come over and let me know, so I could do a random bee check of my own. Lucky for me, no bees. Though I was armed to the teeth in hornet spray, and ready to move like lightning if necessary.

KC, of course decided to comfort Sheila outside by talking her ear off and it was slightly hard to tell what was paining Sheila more. I decided to forego the guessing, returning outside to clamp a hand over my daughter's mouth and apologize for little Miss Opinionated and her unplanned soliloquy, all the while secretly smiling that my daughter is the exact mirror image of me. God, she's cute ...

Anyhow, time to wake the little pumpkin up and get her ready for the first day back to school. Yay! No more shelling the big bucks out to the babysitter! And as for the bees, let's just say hibernation this year came a little early. Oh thank you wise exterminator.