Attack of Cujo the Bee

One of Ryan's favorite songs to sing (and sing along to) is the bumblebee song.
"I'm bringing home a baby bumblebee, won't my mommy be so proud of me."

We sing it often and he does all the hand motions very well. It's always a sweet mommy and Rye moment.

But now, bumblebees will forever conjure up different emotions - hysteria and fear.

After getting home from daycare yesterday afternoon, Rye hopped out of the car and walked up to the front door while I got Lindsey out. Next thing I know, Rye is running back down to the car, screaming and waving his hands. It took me a second to realize that he was running from a bee. No big deal, I thought. "Just ignore it, Rye," I said, proud that I was remaining the calm voice of reason. "It will leave you alone if you just ignore it." But it wasn't leaving him alone and he was hysterical. So I swatted it away, trying to help. And then it happened. Cujo the bee started attacking me.

At this point, Daddy had come out and saw what was going on and decided he would be the voice of reason. "It's just a bumble bee," he says. This is no ordinary bumble bee. So he swats at it and the bee is now coming after him. Rye is crying, I'm screaming in fetal position, Nate is bobbing and weaving and LP - well, she's just hanging out in her car seat, looking at us like "This is my family?" Somehow, we subdued the beast and made it into the house.

Ryan was stung.

Cujo attacked him right on his chest and there was a nice size bee sting. Ice to the rescue! He was a champ. Settled down quickly and, eventually, was showing off his "battle wound" with pride.

Then, there's a knock on the door.

Our neighbor, three doors down on the other side of the street was at our door. "Is everything OK?" she asks me. "I heard screaming and didn't know if your husband was on travel and you were here alone, but it sounded like there was quite an ordeal going on outside."

So we explained the attack of Cujo the Bee...and realized how ridiculous we sounded, but thanked her for coming down to make sure we were all OK (I love our neighbors, by the way).

And that, was how Ryan got his first bee sting.