I had my final wisdom teeth taken out last Wednesday. Having had two oral surgeries in my teens and a wisdom tooth extraction last summer, I've actually become accustomed to the procedure. In fact, in the middle of the operation, I recall thinking to myself that, if I were offered a full-time job having my wisdom teeth taken out (in other words, forty hours a week every week), that would definitely be something I could do. Unfortunately, no such jobs exist, and I'm out of wisdom teeth. The hard part is the recovery. I experience excruciating pain whenever I eat or drink or move my tongue. What fun. Oh well, it should help me to lose more weight. So far I'm down 26 pounds.
Today after watering my outdoor plants, I went inside and had an itch on my leg. When I scratched it, the itchy area started buzzing, and then I felt a stabbing pain. The was a bee in my pants. As I struggled to remove my pants as quickly and as gently as I possibly could, my cell phone went off. I got it on the fourth ring. It was Lowe's calling to make sure I was happy with my new dishwasher and to make sure I knew about the one-year warranty.That was kind of annoying but not nearly so much as what's on my voicemail. (I swear I don't know any of those people, but I'm thinking I may have to take out a restraining order on Ashley White.)
Anyway, I found the bee. It was dying, since it had expended its stinger, which was really a shame. If it had lived, I would have set it free. But how on earth did it wind up in my pants? The whole thing was a bit scary, since I had never before in my life been stung by a bee, and, for all I knew, I was horribly allergic. Apparently I'm not, since I'm still okay.