I think I was 8 or 9 when I got stung by a bee for the first and only time. I was with Carlo and Bri at our neighbor’s house. We were canning tomatoes for sauce in the winter. It was fun and a squishy mess. It was hot in the basement so we took a break with ice pops and sat on the steps among the flowers. It happened fast. The bee stung me in the neck. I dropped my pop. I screamed. My friend’s mom came outside. She spoke mostly Italian but sent me home with my brothers. My mom got the stinger out and told me to lay on the couch. I guess back then they didn’t have bunny boo-boo ice things, because my mom, and I will never forget this — she gave me a bag of frozen ravioli to keep on my neck. I wasn’t allergic, but it hurt like heck. There was a bump and the area itched. My mom gave me Benadryl. We ate … ravioli for dinner. I was never stung again. Until yesterday.
I was home with JD yesterday and we went to Van Saun Park in Paramus, NJ, also home of the Bergen County Zoo. They have a butterfly exhibit up and there was a cool Rockin’ N With Reptiles show scheduled. We packed lunch and the two of us went on a day date. JD was so excited— me too. The summer has gone by so fast, tear. We toured the zoo. First, we stopped at the farm area where it smelled, but JD “mooed” at the cows, looked at big, sweaty smelly pigs, and told a donkey his middle name is Domenic and that there’s a Christmas song called “Domenic the Donkey.”. Next, the butterfly exhibit … it was magical. For only $2 we got to play in a netted-off area with butterflies. One landed on my shoulder. JD was thrilled! He told me it was good luck. I believed him.
We broke for lunch and a special ice cream treat then headed to the monkey nets. It was there it happened. I got stung by a mother $%@&^!!!**** bee. And it stung! JD and I found a shady patch on some rocks and a lovely woman offered to take our picture after she saw me snap 20 of JD solo. JD watched the monkeys swing and nibble on fruit. I basked in the easiness of the moment—then STING. Yep!
I jumped. “Ouch!” I said. I looked at my knee. I immediately pulled out the stinger. “Mommy, are you OK?” “Mommy got stung by a silly bee, I’m OK.” Even though it was stinging. Bad. And I wanted to cry. It got red immediately and swelled up. This did wonders for my panic disorder because I wondered if I was going to have a severe allergic reaction. That is where my head went. I didn’t panic in front of JD. We took a walk to the store for water. I noticed a first aid kit behind the counter and bashfully told the clerk I got stung by a bee. She was really sweet and looked at my knee. Then she gave me this little vial of aloe and alcohol that said something about bee stings on it. She told me I was fine and if I was going to have any sort of reaction, I would have by then. Phew! I felt better.
We went to the Rock ‘N Reptile show. The woman doing the show introduced herself as “Christine.” JD stood up, “My mom is Christine and she got stung by a bumble bee today!” “This is true, folks,” I said. “But I am OK.” I am always OK.
We rode the train and played in the park—then took off.
Read about our other fun summer adventures:
Adult Play-Dates … we’re busy bees.
Last night when JD went to bed, I got into my bed in my underwear and t-shirt. I slapped a bag of frozen edamame on my knee, texted, worked and watched reality TV. Ah, survival. My knee itches. Still.
Bee Sting? Read this at Babble
Ever get stung by a bee? Allergic? Describe.
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