Yeah. That didn't happen. This insane Other Bee started buzzing all around me like he was mad and I was the cause of it. So I did my best dance moves (otherwise known as flailing of arms and legs) to try to rid myself of him. He wasn't so easily swayed, so he returned, even madder than before. So, what'd I do? I very calmly said, "Mr. Other Bee, I asked you nicely...." Yeah. That didn't happen either. I promptly dropped my spray painted thingie and split, so fast my left foot came flying out of my flip-flop. Now, lest you think this was some graceful run, I do have to paint the real picture. After my foot left its home, I lost my balance, reliving Atlanta all over again in the time left after my life flashed before my eyes. I fell. I mean I felllllllllllll. No, that's not quite accurate. I was in the act of falling, thinking I would surely land on the grass between the driveway and the patio...then thinking I would surely land on the grill...it was like I was in a video game, watching things fly past my head when I know I was supposed to actually land on them...then I wondering how much farther I could fall when FINALLY I smacked into the side of the house. Fully upright, I might add. So, technically, I did not fall. But I did hurt my foot.
Trying to come up with a solution for this not to happen again, I have decided to put some of these around outside, you know, just in case I ever decide to come near a dying bee again. Oh, wait, these didn't help last time...
Oh, well...at least this time it was the other foot.
Editor's note: I cannot stop giggling. I have thought about this all day long, and while telling my husband about it the exact same words that described my Atlanta fall kept coming to mind..."When am I gonna land?" I am just too graceful for my own good.