Eli Versus Bee

This morning Eli and his friend were playing in our backyard when Eli suddenly came through the door screaming bloody murder. I heard him before I saw him, and I knew it was his "I'm in pain" cry. And it was about the worst "I'm in pain" cry I've heard out of him. I braced myself for an amputated leg, or a tooth knocked out of his mouth, or a gash in his head. When I got to him, I saw nothing.

Tears were streaming down his face. His screams mimicked the siren of an ambulance as he restlessly flopped around in my arms. I tried to get the story of what happened between sobs, "Eli. What happened, buddy?"
"A...A...A BEE!" He screamed as he gasped for air between each word.
"Oh no Eli! Did a bee sting you?"
"Ye...ye...yeaaaaaahhhhh."

Eli then showed me his foot which was completely red with a tiny prick on the inside of his arch. Then he screamed for 30 minutes straight. I sat with him on the couch by our front window, trying to help him calm down.

"THERE!" He yelled through more pained crying, pointing out the window.
"Is that where it happened?"
"By that green bush!" The crying got worse as he remembered the scene of the incident.
"Oh. I'm so sorry."
"That's where the bee poked me." More inconsolable screaming.
"Bees...Bees....Bees...BEES don't know how to LISTEN!"
His comment caught me off guard, and I laughed out loud. He glared at me until I quit.

"Do you know why the bee poked you?" I asked, trying to figure out if he tormented the bee, if he had gotten too close to a nest, or if he had just accidentally stepped on it.
"He...he...he...wanted to poke me."
"What did you do to make him poke you?"
"I was trying to rub him into the grass and then he poked me."
With the newfound clarity on the situation, I laughed a little more, but I hid it better this time around.

May this be a lesson to all of us to never "rub bees into the grass." Especially without shoes on.