Once upon a time, the lord of the manor was doing yard work (for verily it was not a large manor, and the lord liked to care for his shrubbery and grounds).
And behold, the lord of the manor's two eldest sons were working alongside their father, or rather, chattering away to their father as they puttered beside him outside.
When suddenly, out of the shrubbery arose a swarm of upset, befuddled, enraged stinging insects. Call them bees, call them wasps, call them hornets -- verily they were sore angered.
Thus the stinging insects began to sting our lord of the manor. He immediately raised his voice in alarm, and beckoned to his children to run into their home. And they did so.
The second son made it inside safely. But the demonized devils with stinger-weapons had only just begun to fight. They stung the elder son on the tender flesh of his upper thigh -- twice. And following him inside the kitchen entrance, they attacked again, getting him on his side.
He whooped, he yelled, he
hollered. For verily if this 8-year-old lad could swear, he would have done so.
Now enter the lady of the manor on the scene, rushing to the aid of her family. She and the lord of the manor smacked and whacked the bees who had followed their oldest heir into their haven. Then she raced to apply a cold frozen pack (made by her own hand by the aid of Pinterest) to the reddening, swelling wounds.
It seemed all was well; the oldest son reclined on the settee for a brief respite, the second asked after his welfare, the third jumped up and down, and the fourth slept in his infant reclining swing.......
Then, came ROUND TWO.
Another enraged stinging insect had found his way to the heart of the family dwelling place, and buzzed his loud buzz right in the terrified ear of the oldest child. Chaos ensued again! The oldest ran screaming, the third kept jumping up and down, and the second stepped in front of the baby's swing and spread his arms wide to protect the youngest heir (bringing tears to his mother's eyes for his bravery).
The father and mother
whacked and smacked again; arms
flailing, eyes
crazy, hair
flying; until that fat striped stinging monster lay crushed on the ground, never to buzz no more.
When the dust settled, the family looked at each other, tense muscles slowly relaxing.
Then the second son broke the silence:
"Wow, mom. That was a battle.
The battle of the bees!"