Sand bees…those stupid sand bees. When I was a kid my family was the proud owner of the biggest sandbox in town. It was way cool, had a big cement pipe (affectionately called the Tunnel) and a couple of dump-trucks worth of sand. So when we built our home, a big sandbox was high on my list of desires. We got it, and thanks to a mistake by a contractor, we ended up with a huge one! Ten dump-trucks full! But with it came sand bees.
Every summer the kids come in crying, "There’s bees in the sand pile!" Over the years I have battled the bees many times. The biggest problem is that I don’t want to turn the sand into a toxic waste dump. Daily raking helps some, but not enough. So when I give up and resort to pesticides, it has to be as little as possible… anyway it all happened because of the bees. The bees had been reported, but I hadn’t jumped into action.
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. I was lounging around the house in some comfortable baggy shorts. Then someone with true power, the queen bee, gave a royal decree that I slay those increasingly annoying bees. Oh and they were in the trampoline again so be sure and spray it too. So after kicking all the kids out of the backyard so I could spray, I started the attack. As I finished the sandbox, the wind started to pick up a bit, but I was determined to finish. When a royal decree has been issued you don’t want to be on the bad side of the queen. So I turned to the tramp… the bees like to crawl into the springs. It would be best to wait for evening, but maybe if I soaked the springs…(kids don’t tend to suck on the springs like they eat sand).
As I bent over to spray the springs, and the spray was mostly coming back in my face, I had a brilliant idea. If I tipped the tramp up on edge, I could spray the springs easily without fumigating myself in the process. While moving around to the far side so I had room for the spray to land on the grass and not in the garden, I almost stepped on some doggy doo-doo. Rats, my son had done a shoddy job of scooping once again…I stepped carefully over the pile. That would have to wait. Back to those stupid bees….
As I lifted the tramp I realized this might not be a one-person job, but maybe if I walked up the side I might get it by myself. As I moved from leg to leg of the tramp, forcing it higher and higher, the whole thing started to twist around with the wind. I stubbornly continued my quest. It was almost there and if I just jumped… I thought I could get it. And then it happened all at once but in that sort of slow motion that happens during car wrecks.
I jumped… I went up, but my baggy shorts and under garments went down! In shock over this turn of events, I lost my hold on the edge of the tramp and when the wind suddenly gusted, the tramp went into free fall. With my bare butt blowing in the wind… the only thing I could do was duck and cover. I tried to tuck under the falling trampoline. I managed to get out of the way of the metal, but the main pad slammed me to the ground…
Oh, safe and sound hidden under the tramp with only a bump on my head! Had anyone seen me? Were the backyard neighbors in their yard? Maybe I would just stay there for a few minutes. Pulling my pants back up, I became aware of a bad smell. Seems that my fall had been cushioned by some nice squishy dog doo-doo…
So you might think the moral of this story is don’t wear baggy shorts. OR don’t try and flip a tramp by yourself… No, the stupidest thing I did all that day was not keep my mouth shut. Once the story was out, it grew to be the family legend. Told to complete strangers just for a laugh, and now by royal decree of the queen bee it’s on the web… So here’s some advice. If you jump and you go up and your pants go down… just fix the problem and move on. Never tell anyone! Oh and the bees were back in a week. I think the spray I was using had been frozen and didn’t seem to work at all…stupid sand bees.
*Editor's Note: Comments were somehow disabled on yesterday's post. We want you to know it was not intentional. In fact, Dad would love some sympathy stories about ripping your pants in public. So please if you had a comment to share feel free to return to the page. We are sorry you caught us with our pants down.
Every summer the kids come in crying, "There’s bees in the sand pile!" Over the years I have battled the bees many times. The biggest problem is that I don’t want to turn the sand into a toxic waste dump. Daily raking helps some, but not enough. So when I give up and resort to pesticides, it has to be as little as possible… anyway it all happened because of the bees. The bees had been reported, but I hadn’t jumped into action.
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. I was lounging around the house in some comfortable baggy shorts. Then someone with true power, the queen bee, gave a royal decree that I slay those increasingly annoying bees. Oh and they were in the trampoline again so be sure and spray it too. So after kicking all the kids out of the backyard so I could spray, I started the attack. As I finished the sandbox, the wind started to pick up a bit, but I was determined to finish. When a royal decree has been issued you don’t want to be on the bad side of the queen. So I turned to the tramp… the bees like to crawl into the springs. It would be best to wait for evening, but maybe if I soaked the springs…(kids don’t tend to suck on the springs like they eat sand).
As I bent over to spray the springs, and the spray was mostly coming back in my face, I had a brilliant idea. If I tipped the tramp up on edge, I could spray the springs easily without fumigating myself in the process. While moving around to the far side so I had room for the spray to land on the grass and not in the garden, I almost stepped on some doggy doo-doo. Rats, my son had done a shoddy job of scooping once again…I stepped carefully over the pile. That would have to wait. Back to those stupid bees….
I jumped… I went up, but my baggy shorts and under garments went down! In shock over this turn of events, I lost my hold on the edge of the tramp and when the wind suddenly gusted, the tramp went into free fall. With my bare butt blowing in the wind… the only thing I could do was duck and cover. I tried to tuck under the falling trampoline. I managed to get out of the way of the metal, but the main pad slammed me to the ground…
Oh, safe and sound hidden under the tramp with only a bump on my head! Had anyone seen me? Were the backyard neighbors in their yard? Maybe I would just stay there for a few minutes. Pulling my pants back up, I became aware of a bad smell. Seems that my fall had been cushioned by some nice squishy dog doo-doo…
So you might think the moral of this story is don’t wear baggy shorts. OR don’t try and flip a tramp by yourself… No, the stupidest thing I did all that day was not keep my mouth shut. Once the story was out, it grew to be the family legend. Told to complete strangers just for a laugh, and now by royal decree of the queen bee it’s on the web… So here’s some advice. If you jump and you go up and your pants go down… just fix the problem and move on. Never tell anyone! Oh and the bees were back in a week. I think the spray I was using had been frozen and didn’t seem to work at all…stupid sand bees.
*Editor's Note: Comments were somehow disabled on yesterday's post. We want you to know it was not intentional. In fact, Dad would love some sympathy stories about ripping your pants in public. So please if you had a comment to share feel free to return to the page. We are sorry you caught us with our pants down.
3 comments:
Bahahahaha too funny! Good story!
Laughing out loud, and wondering if the neighbor has blackmailed you yet with the pictures she happened to snap of you!
Never ripped my pants in public but I did have a "friend" pull my pants down in the middle of a dance class once! It was a room full of girls, thank goodness, but it was still very uncomfortable.
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