Day 353/354: (Word Play) The Bee Bite


Mildred and Piprel sat on the porch drinking some ice tea when Mildred jumped in excitement of getting stung by a bee.  “Goodness me.  The sting from the bee burns like fire.”

“I always find the sting to feel more acidic, Mildred.”

“Quick.  Get me some ice to put on it before it swells like a watermelon.”

“I seriously doubt it would swell like a watermelon, Mildred, dear.  Maybe it will get big like a cherry.  But, none the less, it can get red and irritated.”  Piprel ran inside to the kitchen where she grabbed some ice cubs from the refrigerator and placed them into a plastic bags.

Upon returning outside to the porch, Mildred yelled in hysterics.  “Ouch.  It hurts terrible, Piprel.  Where’s the ice?  Get me something to put on this sting immediately.  I never did understand what you and Henry wanted when you moved out here to the country.”

Piprel grabbed a hold of Mildred’s wrist and applied the bag of ice to the affected area.  “There, there.  It will be all better soon, Mildred, dear.  Just hold the bag of ice against the bee bite for a while to cool it down.  There’s no need to panic unless bee bites are deadly to you.  As far as we know, you’ve never needed shots for bee stings.  The only reaction you’ve ever had to bee bites is the swelling of the skin.  So just calm yourself.”

“Calm myself.  Do you think I should take such a matter lightly.  A bee sting is still serious regardless if I need to have shots for the bites or not.  I think I should go into the emergency room.  Piprel.  I can’t stand the irritation.”  Mildred removes the bag of ice from the affected area shouting, “Look how ugly my wrist looks now.  How can I wear my favorite jewelry on my wrist.  I have a party to go to in two days.  A dinner party, mind you.  Do you honestly expect I should go when my wrist looks hideous.”

“Don’t you think you are making too much of a little thing as a bee bite, Mildred.  Imagine at your age showing such vanity over a little swelling of the flesh, because you’re worried what others will say or think.  Folks don’t worry about such things, unless it’s a life or death situation.  Believe me, Mildred, when I say you’ll live.”

“I’ll live.  That’s all you have to tell me is I’ll live.  Of course I’ll live, Piprel.  But it’s the principle of the thing.  It was your yard the bee stung me.  I don’t take kindly to your acting nonchalant about the matter.  How would you like it if it were your little dog Willa which got bit from the bee.  Only then would you make an issue of the matter.”  Mildred shook her wrist in Piprel’s face.  “Look at this mess.  My flesh has gone from a deep red to a pink.  You’ve made the coloring of my skin worse with this silly bag of ice.”  She shakes the bag of ice in Piprel’s face.

Piprel grabs the bag of ice from Mildred, and applies it once again to the bite.  “Will you leave the ice on top of the bite.  Instead of worrying about your coloring, you should pay attention how the swelling has gone down somewhat, no thanks to my quick thinking.  If you keep applying the bag of ice to the affected area, not only will you rid yourself of the irritation, but the swelling and redness will have diminished by the time you go to your  precious party in the next couple days.

© Copyright, Kiki Stamatiou, 2015


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