Here is something I wish I could tell my younger self: “No matter how cute and fuzzy they look, DON’T pet the bublebees”. But alas, amazon is still out of stock on time machines.
As a kid I was terrified of bees, mostly because my family incessantly warned me to stay away from them and ALSO because they told me that getting stung, meant the bee dies – which to 7 year old me seemed pretty horrifying. I didn’t want to be the reason why a bee’s entrails were ripped out and strewn about.
To little kid me though, there existed the slick no-fuzz bees, and THEN there were the bumblebees. Balls of yellow and black fluff, begging to be petted. Something in little Claudi just got triggered and I would get stung multiple times a summer trying to caress these buzzing fluff balls (FYI unlike bees, bumblebees dont die from stinging).
I bet all the bumblebees in the neighbourhood would complain about me at their weekly tea party.
– Bumbelina, you won’t BELIEVE what happened to me!
– What?!
– That girl…she….she touched me again!
– Oh sweet bee-jesus, NO! Are you alright? Do you need more tea?!
What can I say, bumblebees are dramatic.
