You Gonna Eat That? II

My last post got gobbled up somehow so I’m writing it again.

I had a flashback to my childhood the other day. It was kind of odd because it was a memory from when I was very young. God it seems like a lifetime ago and thinking of it now seems almost surreal. Anyway…

Picture it. It’s the 1970’s. Yours truly is about 3-4 years old. There’s me, my foster mom/dad and my 2nd oldest brother at the time. Mom was sewing and making clothes, my brother was in school, my dad was at work, and I was left to my own devices. We had a yard at the time that covered about an acres of land with a few trees on it. One tree in particular was my favorite. It wasn’t very big but had an odd limb that grew out not too terribly far from the ground. I couldn’t reach it on my own but if I stacked a 5-gallon bucket and a 50-gallon drum next to each other I cold easily climb up on the limb and hang out.

It was one of my favorite little spots to pass the time. If I was outside, I had to avoid the geese because they were mean and would jump on me, knock me down, and beat me with their wings. I was a tiny little fucker at the time so must have seemed like easy prey to them. Anyway, here I am one day chomping on a PB&J sammich and sitting in ‘my’ tree having a good ole time. I’d heard my dad come home but didn’t think much of it. I’d see him in a bit.

Everything was hunky-dory until I heard my dad yelling at me. I was startled so didn’t quite process what he was saying. I look over a bit confused and see him (along with my mom in tow) running over toward me continually yelling. This served to scare me more as my dad never ran. They are both clearly in distress and my dad jumps up on the 5-gallon bucket and yanks me down. Not understanding what is happening, I’m full on bawling at this point. I’m thinking I’ve somehow managed to do something and get in trouble. Meanwhile, I’m still chomping away at my PB&J sammich. ^[1]Even then I had a love for food!

I guess they realized they were making my hysterical so my mom starts trying to calm me down. It turns out my dad discovered a nest of yellow-jackets had built a nest right in the crook of the limb where it met the tree. He hadn’t a chance to take care of it I guess. Anyway, my dad seeing me up in the tree freaked out, afraid I was gonna stung. Unbeknownst to me the wasps were loving my sammich and flying all about. One had apparently landed right on my delicious sandwich right as I took a bite. Yup, you guessed it, I ate it! lol It never stung me, or if it did, I didn’t feel it.

My dad later sprayed them with WD-40, which promptly killed’em. An hour or two goes by and I’m right back up in my tree. This time minus the sandwich, watching the world go by. hehehe

I’m not sure why I suddenly remember this but I thought it funny enough to share. Aren’t memories funny sometimes?