We were enjoying a nice little conversation, catching each other up on our lives for the last week, during which she had been sick and we had not seen each other. We were driving home from the barn and I had ridden my horse. My hip had also been sore for the past week, so I wasn't surprised by the shooting pain that suddenly seemed to stab me. I pressed on the spot quickly to massage the tight muscle. We kept driving and talking when all of a sudden I felt another stab on the front of my hip. That was not normal. I grabbed my shirt in the spot where I felt the stab, felt some little object in there and ground with my fingers while at the same time trying desperately to remove the offending object from the folds of my shirt. I promptly deposited it into the empty granola bowl in my truck where it wriggle in a drop of chocolate soy milk.
We stared at it in bewilderment. It was cold and windy at the barn. "Where did that come from? How did it get in my shirt?" Further examination revealed that the darling little yellow jacket had stung me three times on my hip.
"Are you allergic?" Meredith asked me.
"I don't think so. I've only been stung once when I was a little girl."Every time you get stung your allergies get worse. I just got stung 3 times! I'm gonna die! My breath came difficult and I had headache.
By the time we got home, had dinner, and watched a 1946 version of Beauty and the Beast (in French with English subtitles) I was breathing normally again and more worried about the frightening beast than the three welts on my hip.