I'm not sure how old I was before I actually got stung by a bee, that I remember, anyway. Throughout my growing up years, I knew of the threat, of the risk, and was always wary, well, actually scared of bees and what they could reportedly do.
My girl also was wary of bees. Well, alright, scared of bees, though I'm not sure if she completely understood what they could do. Today, she found out firsthand what they can do.
We were moving some boxes back into the house from their storage location under the tarp in the middle of the back yard. She was near by us, just keeping busy and pretending to help. Suddenly, she started acting really scared of a bee that was supposedly buzzing around, one that I didn't see. I looked around intently since she was so adamant there was one near, one that would definitely get her. We tried to console her, like we always do, but she kept crying there was a bee after her.
Mama took over and cuddled her. A minute later, the story changed a bit to say she was actually stung by the bee. We looked for the injury, but found none, though the crying was escalating.
A few minutes later, after more crying and major anxiousness, we looked at the injury site again and saw three little bumps starting to form. Indeed, she got stung. I went out and looked for the bee remnants that would have been involved, and sure enough, saw the culprit crawling around on the ground with half its butt hanging out of its end. I'm not sure, but maybe not the entire stinger dislodged.
It was our girl's first bee sting, so it was time to keep a close watch on the reaction. Allergies run in (half) the family, so we weren't sure what to expect. We sat her down in a small plastic chair the driveway, in the sun to keep warm as it was a chilly day when the wind kicked up.
The bee kept crawling around, not really trying to fly away, but obviously injured. It kept falling over as it crawled, more and more as time when on. It was dying, we explained, as bees do after they discharge their single shot stinger.
I went back to work, moving stuff around, wondering what to do with all this stuff since we still don't have the space nor the organization to handle all our things that want to move back into the house with us. Another five minutes since I last checked on the bee, it was gone. Not a trace. Not sure if it was able to fly away, if a bird picked it up, or the wind kicked up and blew it far beyond sight.
Our girl was well on her way to being her cheerful self again, and as the triple bumps on her wrist grew in size comparable to mosquito bites, they waned quickly enough and were soon barely noticeable. She seems to have been fortunate in that she inherited her dad's strong immune system and so far, a healthy lack of allergies.