Trauma

This afternoon the kids were playing out in the yard when Sweetsie started caterwauling like she’d been stung. And sure enough, she had. So we set her up on the stool in the kitchen, and Mr. Handsome pulled the stinger out and I put some baking soda paste on it.

Right about that time Miss Becca Boo commenced to hollering and I ran to the window just in time to see her burning a trail to the porch like the devil was on her tail. I set her on the table and Mr. Handsome pulled the stinger out of her foot and I put baking soda paste on her foot. They pulled out all the stops in the wailing department.

When Yo-Yo Boy walked through the house he had to plug his ears. Which made me chuckle because it was only several days ago that he got stung on his foot. He was quite dramatic about it, too (I haven’t a clue where these kids learned to be so theatrical—nope, none whatsoever). He declared he couldn’t walk, so Miss Becca Boo had to transport him by trike.

I don’t know—ya’ think they might start wearing shoes now?