Bee Gone... with you.

I harassed my first wasp nest when I was six years old. It was before I knew what it was like to be stung. I was fearless of the unknown. I knew that there was a nest located in the shed, and so like a brave warrior ready for battle, my weapon of choice; a stick. With all my might I whacked the shed with my stick and challenged these wasps for a face off. They emerged from their nest more quickly than I could count. I began to swing, trying to wipe them out one by one, but there were simply just way too many for me to handle, alone. I ended up getting stung once, right between the eyes.

Since that defining moment of my first bee sting... I have been stung several times in the most unexpected moments, where either myself or the bee was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I never actually began to fear bees until Becca was born. I could not stop myself. In a panic, I would scoop Becca up in my arms and make a run for it. It was a horrible feeling.

Just this past weekend while visiting a friend, we noticed a very large bee hive hanging at the very tip of a tree branch about 10 feet above our heads. It was our mission to take that thing down, and I saw it as an opportunity to face my fear head on. My friend's husband began throwing rocks, wood... whatever he could find, while I stood behind him armed to two full cans of bug spray. I wasn't taking any chances.. I had a net over my head, and wore a heavy sweater even though the heat was scorching.

Enough was enough. After many failed attempts at throwing rocks, I was feeling the heat, and getting very frustrated. I grabbed the high pressure hose and sprayed the nest until it hung heavy with the weight of water. Hundreds bees began to swarm the hive, and at this point it was time to throw rocks again, while I continued hosing it down. I was discovered by a very angry wasp, and threw the hose to make a run for the front door, only to find that the door was locked. I turned to face my doom with my two cans held high... but I must have lost him. Thank goodness.

With three really good hits... the hive broke apart, and then came the spray. It felt like the makings of an episode of 'Billy the exterminator', only more entertaining. I can't say that we were experienced or that we knew what we were doing but most importantly: Mission accomplished. By the next day they were all gone. Anyway... That was my brave moment. It feels good to conquer fear.