Sunday, March 29, 2009

Bonding over bees

You know those moments in life that are so funny when they happen, that they make you smile even years later when you think about them?
In my family, it's the Christmas that my Dad forgot his Chapstick at home and was dreading a whole afternoon of gift-opening with dried out lips. But when he discovered a Chapstick attached to one of his gifts, he cried out, "Glory Halleluiah!"
Or there's the time my sister-in-law, who collects pens, talked my brother and I into visiting what we thought was a pen store -- her Mecca. As we walked into a strangely quiet office supplies distribution operation, my sister-in-law sputtered out "What... is... this... place...?" to a very bored looking receptionist.
These are memories that have stood the test of time and remain hysterical to me to this day.
Well, Kelly and I created one of those memories on Saturday.
We headed out to Shaw Butte to tackle a 4-mile hike before the busy day we had ahead of us. About a mile into the hike, I felt something behind my ear and heard a slight buzzing sound. I swatted at what I think was a bee, and felt a sense of dread.
I hate bees.
I tried to get my mind off the idea that there were bees on this trail. Bees always have a way of hunting me down.
We make our way about another mile down the trail, when we start to hear a buzzing noise behind us that is so loud, we both turn our heads... and we see the Biggest. Bee. Of. All. Time.
Seriously, it was like three feet long.
"BEEEEEEE," Kelly screamed.
And we took off. I'm talking full-out sprint. We passed people who eyed us with respect for not only hiking a difficult trail, but RUNNING it. They think we are hardcore.
We were just scared for our lives. After a minute or two, we started to slow down, and I peeked behind us... "It's STILL THERE," I screamed, which sent us into an even faster sprint.
The whole time we're running, we're yelling at each other about whose turn it is to look for the bee. Neither of us wants to stop, because then it will surely get us. Neither of us wants to turn around to look for it, because we don't want to make eye contact with it.
We think we probably ran about a half mile before we finally lost the bee. As we slowed down, we started laughing hysterically.
Kelly and I have been friends for years. We talk to each other several times a day. We know a LOT about each other. But we didn't know we shared such a strong fear of bees.
I guess this training is teaching us more about each other than we bargained for.

1 comment:

  1. Crying from laughing so hard.
    Also, what kind of mutant bees are you breeding there in Arizona?