Taking one for the team...

I am the bee killer in our household. I know - it's probably wrong to kill a living thing, but when there's an attack on my personal air space I take care of business. Most importantly, Matt is allergic to bees. Go to the hospital allergic. And his epi-pen has expired (on my to do list for today). So I have to take care of my man.

SO...there I was in my kitchen on my birthday and from no where I had the sharpest pain in my side (much higher than my waist). I reach up under my shirt to feel where it was and I pull a bee out of me. Ow! So I put Matt on alert to stay out of the kitchen until I make sure everything's clear. I think everything's fine until I look straight down and there's a bee walking out from on my bra onto my shirt through where it was buttoned together. It's like a nightmare. My cousins were here and Amy tried to kill it (it's very hard to kill a bee on your own or someone else's cleavage without serious potential complications). She did end up knocking it off me without another sting and stomped it into its afterlife. So we're all screaming and Matt yells "My God, where are they coming from?" and the best I can answer is "my breasts, apparently". Which broke the tension...we never figured out how they got in, but there were no others that we have found yet. I am feeling very protective of my parts - there are some places I never want to be stung!