Butt Just Bee Careful

I Hate Yard Work

Perhaps someday I’ll be filthy rich and have a gardener but for now as homeowner I’m stuck weeding, pruning, trimming and all that other nasty nature stuff.  I need to warn you to bee careful when you are in the garden.

Since I’m in the Over-50 crowd, making a fashion statement isn’t always high on my priority list, especially while working around my own estate.  I have some fabulous rubber rain boots that I like to wear while I’m working in the yard – white with orange trim with yellow, orange and green citrus fruit pattern.  I also often wear dresses, which offer a nice cool breeze up the nether region and of course I have my garden gloves which cover my forearms, so as not to scratch my delicate skin.  Got a visual?

One other thing I forgot to mention is that I take a pass on wearing britches.  Not necessarily because I’m a nasty girl but that’s just more needless laundry that can be avoided. 

I Was In The Zone

The other day I headed out back, loppers in hand and started hacking away at that overgrowth. That’s not a euphemism. It was hot and I was in a hurry as the yard waste disposal truck was due to come by within the hour.  I was pulling the weeds that easily ejected from the dirt, and chopping down anything green or brown that was in my way.  I was bound and determined to fill up that yard cart in record time.  I was in the zone; I was making good time when all of a sudden … YEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOW!  

What the hell was that?  Did someone just shoot me in the arse with a b-b gun?  Suddenly I felt like Forrest Gump who got shot in the buttocks.  I threw the loppers to the ground as I tried to figure out where the sniper was hiding. I was twisting and dancing and the full moon was shining brightly.  It’s just too bad that I didn’t have some music, a pole and an audience; I may have made a few bucks with that performance.

A Bee Had Bitten Me On The Bum

Owie, owie, ow.  That smarts.  Once I safely determined that I was not under attack I could see, correction, I could not see way back there, but I could feel a nice round welt arising on my ample booty. I needed to investigate further.

Back inside my castle I found a hand mirror did a few contortions until I could clearly see that indeed a bee had bitten me on the bum.  And here all this time I thought “bet your sweet ass” was just an expression.  Now I have the evidence to prove that I actually do have sweet cheeks.  Aww honey-honey.

I like big butts and I cannot lie… You other buzzers can’t deny… Well shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it, shake that healthy butt …Baby got back