Book Creator Code: YHBQX27
Magnolia Lane
I grew up on a street called Magnolia Lane, lined with twenty five houses, looping around at a cul de sac. When I was a little girl, my dad and I had a decently sized garden. On one hot summer day, our garden was sad looking, burnt to a crisp. I was never very good at gardening, and neither was he. I looked at my german shepherd, lying in the cold dirt of our dead garden. My dad decided that we would get rid of our sad garden and build a beautiful pool. Of course I loved this idea.
Over a course of however much time, we started building the pool. Some of my neighbors had lent my dad equipment he needed to build the pool. One day when we were working on the pool, it started to rain, not very hard, but enough that we needed to take a break. My dad asked me to go to the deck to get the cover off of the grill so the equipment would not get wet. I ran up the stairs to the deck and pulled the grill cover off. To my surprise, I had just disrupted a very angry and very large nest of yellow jackets. Out they came, swarming around me, and up my dress. I ran down into the yard, still holding the grill cover, while my dad tried to get the bees away from me.
With all the yelling and commotion, my mom came outside with the intention of telling us to quiet down so she could get my brother to nap. I had never previously been stung by a bee, so this made both of my parents nervous. My dad pushed me inside, away from the angry yellow jackets, and my mom gave me a freezing cold bath. My dad ran back down the stairs to the deck to cover the equipment and then snuck inside when he could. I somehow only got away with four bee stings while my dad’s chest was covered in them. We both took some Benadryl and watched TV for the rest of the afternoon. After that experience, I have never touched a grill cover again, nor will I ever, and I really am not a fan of any kind of bees.
