Fucking hell. It was Easter and we were living on the farm. Here is the house we built. It is rectangle because my dad didn’t like making trusses and had them pre-made and the rectangle was cheapest.
We lived in a single-wide behind that for the years it took my dad and his brothers and my grandpa to build that house. But those big trees to the north of the house were not there when I was.
My mom had a ridiculously large garden that I don’t remember eating anything from where those trees are now at. But it was huge. We used a tractor to till it. And after school we would be made to go down there and pick bugs off the vegetables and drown them in coffee cans full of gasoline before we could go inside and watch Duck Tales.
Now we are getting around to the bees.
It was Easter and it was my mom and my sister and I on the lawn having a picnic. My mom went a bit overboard with Easter. I got stuff like a baseball mit, baseball, and bat in my easter basket along with the normal candies. So my sister hits me in the face with the baseball bat while we were playing. Pretty sure it was on purpose.
But once I recover it was time to eat. And we had watermelon. And I used to like watermelon and really got my face in there. Bees like a young mans face that is covered in watermelon too.
Luckily I am not allergic and got inside before any real damage was done.