Wasp the Matter?

The four of us were down in what we commonly referred to as the pasture. There was John Paul Arnold, Chucky Yates, Adam and myself.

We were doing what young kids do – especially boys – roughing around, chasing each other, etc. How we all ended up together on that Saturday morning is lost to me.

What I do recall was seeing John Paul throwing rocks. I wasn’t paying much attention to what he was throwing them at as we’d been tossing rocks at trees and into High Prairie Creek all day.

Suddenly John Paul grabbed up Adam, who was only six-years old at the time, and took off running up the hill toward the neighborhood with Chucky right behind him. I watched for a couple of seconds wondering what they were doing.

“Run, Tommy!” Chucky  yelled as he continued to dash up the hill.

But it was too late. I heard a noise like a machine humming and by the time I turned to see what it was, I was engulfed in a swarm of angry wasps.

It was at that time I decided to take off running – albeit way too late. Before I knew it I was being stung in the head and neck.

Once home, I discovered I wasn’t the only one stung. Adam had been attacked and has several stingers in him, too.

I don’t know how badly Chucky or John Paul got stung as they were gone by the time I made it home.

Dad immediately took me out into the backyard and made a small mud-wallow that he started applying to my head and neck. The mud pack calmed the burning and lessened the pain.

After a few minute in this, he hosed me off and took me inside, where he and Mom proceeded to pluck the stingers from my neck and head. That was almost as bad as the initial attack.

My head and neck were swollen and covered in bumps. I refused to go outside the rest of the day or the next because I looked so funny.

Unfortunately, Dad made me go to school that following Monday – despite my misshapen head.