Dad of All Trades, Master of None

Domesticated, Not Demasculinized

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It’s a Bee’s Life

Posted by doatmon on July 24, 2009

I had an entire blog in my head for today that centered around Michael Jackson, gas prices, staycations, health care reform, professors arrested in their own homes and this weekend’s Jazz and Rib Fest.  Sadly, these grossly under-reported events will have to live on in other forms of media.

Chicken Nugget got stung by a bee.


I feel it’s important to lay blame prior to any sort of constructive dissection of the event.  It was on Coke’s watch, not mine.  She took them to their second-to-last day of Friday playdate/daycare with a family friend.  So it was her fault.

There.  That’s out of the way.

I was starting my kid-free morning the way most SAHers do, I’m sure…checking facebook, twitter, playing Mafia Wars and ogling Natalie Morales and Amy Robach.  Then the phone rang.  It was Coke to fill me in on the catastrophe.  Her voice was riddled with guilt and abject fear.

Apparently between the car and the house, a bee had stealthily slid between Chicken Nugget’s shirt and her porcelain skin.  By the time shoes had been removed and goodbyes said, the poor little one was in tears.

The little bastard (the bee, not Coke or Chicken Nugget) had gotten her twice in its last ditch effort for suicide stinging martyrdom.  And Coke was telling me that it was, get this, “red.” A sure-fire harbinger of impending doom, the color red is feared by parents everywhere.  Red eyes, red skin, red butts, red Kool-Aid…nothing good can come from the color red.

Time to panic, right?

I attempted to allow cooler heads (mine) to prevail and did what any other logical father would do…I went to my bookmarked WebMD page.  I could sense the nerves in Coke’s tone so I tried to suppress years of my mom’s pseudo Munchausen’s indoctrination.  I quickly ruled out the possibility of Ebola.  That’s ridiculous, right?  It took me a little longer to eliminate Bubonic plague.  But that’s only because I was distracted by a pop-up ad for a new nasal strip.

Ah, bee stings.  There we go.

Coke, is she short of breath?”

“No, she’s running around singing along with Paw Pilot on Special Agent Oso.”

“Okay, how about hives?  Is she breaking out in hives?”

“Let me look.  Yes, oh my God, wait, no, that’s just cinnamon roll.  No hives.”

Phew.  Another disaster avoided.  One daughter NOT allergic to bees. “Then I think she’s good,” I exhaled.

Silence. Pause.

“Should I still call the Doctor or go get a vat of Benadryl?”

The good news is that we’re second-time parents with no kids under 2.  We’re veterans.

For God’s sake, a first-time parent would have spent at least another 20 seconds ruling out the Ebola.


What’s on the IPod: Ansley Lister “Need her so bad”


2 Responses to “It’s a Bee’s Life”

  1. Lola said

    That reminds me – I need to get my son to taunt a bee just so I can check for an allergy.

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