To BEE or not to BEE

Remember all those email forwards with a subject line that goes “ Children home alone with Daddy?” Accompanied by funny pictures of kids drinking water from the doggy bowl or climbing into a refrigerator filled with beer cans? All this while, I was one of those moms who labored under the misconception that those horror stories were just that-horror stories. But the events of last Sunday have got me thinking…
I firmly believe in father-son bonding.. and since I have a father-son duo who bond extra well, it leaves me with time on my hands to indulge in things I would otherwise never be able to fit into a crazier-than- crazy schedule.
Hence last Sunday found me at Blossoms on Church Street, basket in hand, merrily buying up every book (new, old or moth eaten )that caught my fancy. This was one mad buying spree that I really did enjoy (especially since I was not the one who was paying for it!!). I was browsing through one of Wodehouse’s masterpieces and giggling to myself as I am wont to do, when shrill summons from my cell phone brought me back to planet earth with a resounding thud. ( I know, I know cell phones in a book shop are so de rigueur!! Blame it on a mom’s natural fear of catastrophe waiting to strike her little one!! )
I picked up the phone to hear a loud pain-filled yell from my normally stoic son and the blood froze in my veins. In the midst of all the hiccupping and yelling, I was only able to make out that Appu was hurt. Finally hubby dear managed to get in a word edgewise and let me know that Appu had managed to get chased by bees and had gotten himself stung in three different places no less!! Visions of swelling arms and stingers stuck in poor Appu’s hands swam before my eyes. Staccato instructions to hubby dear followed, “ Put some ice around the area to bring down the swelling.” “Check to see if the stingers have been still left where he has been stung”. “Make sure you apply some turmeric if the stingers are out” (this nugget I got from my own childhood brush with the bees!!) “ Try not to break the stingers, use forceps”. “Where are the forceps?” (In my manicure kit where else??). “And watch for any reddening, increase in swelling, acute discomfort or difficulty breathing.” “Why do u need to watch for all that?” Because those are signs that Appu is allergic and is going into shock, you dork!!!
I’ve to hand it to hubby dear. His Buddha like-demeanour, which usually drives me up the wall, is a godsend in times like these. Caught up in the tentacles of guilt so bad they squeezed all sanity right out of my brain, I got home as soon as soon as I could, and heaved a sigh of relief at the sight that met my eyes. Appu, fast sleep, hands carefully positioned over the quilt, no signs of any reddening , swelling or stingers.
I finally got the whole story. It seems hubby dear was talking to one of his friends on the phone in the balcony. Appu, bored with the cartoons he was watching decided to go put his two cents worth into the conversation. He walked out into the balcony and seeing his dad wasn’t handing him the phone, decided to go investigate the black and gold wriggly things on the dish tv antenna fixed to the side of the balcony railing. Next thing anyone knew, Appu was being chased back into the house, by a trio of bees in hot pursuit, who did manage to get some stings in. More than the pain, we were worried about how traumatized he had been.
The next morning saw those fears put to rest. Appu, pointing to a colorful advertisement of a beehive, (savings for some bank) pointed to a picture and said, “Those are the bees that bit me yesterday right?”