Ice Ice Baby

I had intended to show you my ice-dyed blue shirt. I made one in the right size last night. Washed it out this morning and wore it to work.

So hang on while I go take a couple photos of it.

Okay, I am back. I hope you didn't feel like you had to wait too long. What do you think?

And speaking of ice.
I didn't make my smoothies last night. I usually make several of them and stash them in the fridge for the next few days. So when I got up this morning, I made a week's worth. Since they really taste much better cold, I did not have one for breakfast. Had yogurt instead.

I grabbed a smoothie and stuffed it in my little ice chest. Since we're not in our regular location, and the one we're in is hotter than hell, I thought it would be easier to have the ice chest.

I was right, but by the time I got around to drinking the smoothie, I was pretty hungry and pretty thirsty.

We were on the playground after lunch. It's much nicer outdoors than indoors, because there just is no air circulation in that damn play shed. We stayed out a little extra. I was considering blowing the whistle. Two short blasts and they know it's time to head for the door.

Suddenly there was screaming on the playground.
Two girls were running to me, screaming and crying. Several other kids were screaming, too. And what the hell was that black tornado boiling out of the log along the back fence?

Why that was ANOTHER nest of fucking ground bees. Little black hornets with really big attitudes. We have had the exterminator out THREE times this summer, and each time they've eradicated a small nest. Apparently there was a bigger one simmering along.

I blew the whistle. Three quick blasts, pause, three more. Yelled, "Evacuate this area! Meet at the stairs!!"

Standing next to me was Erin*, a site director from another school. She suddenly screamed and clawed at her face. Her glasses flew past my head and she was screaming and screaming. Bees were everywhere. I had them buzzing around my head. My legs. Crawling on my arms. There was at least one in my hair by my ear. One landed on the corner of my mouth.

I was not stung.
Neither were most of the kids.
I have no idea why.
When you make those little bastards mad, they sting everything they can.

Kids were flailing their arms and screaming and in a complete panic. I was trying to get them to move in less of a panic, but it was difficult. I wanted them to get away, but didn't want anyone to get trampled or skinned up on the pavement as they escaped from the bees.
Pandemonium.

The kids ran for the stairs, way at the other end of the playground/blacktop, near the building. Away from the bees. Erin and Cindy*, one of our other site directors headed down the ramp to the cafeteria to get the stinger out of Erin's eyelid. Apparently (Eric says) the bees bite, and then they sting as a last resort. I don't know what happened, but Erin had a stinger in her eyelid. Jesus.

Erin tried to stay outside with us, telling Cindy, "We can't go into the building and leave Susan with all these kids. It's not legal ratio!!"

Even with a fucking stinger in her eyelid and all the pain and chaos, her first thought was making sure our kids were adequately supervised.
These are the kind of people I work with.

I waved her in. "Sunshine is back from lunch. We're good on numbers. GO! Take care of yourself!"

I waited for the last kid, one of mine. She didn't pick up on the panic AT ALL and was sort of meandering toward me from the playground. "MOLLY! RUN!!! GET OVER HERE NOW!!!"

Finally she started moving faster. When the other kids began yelling, "BEES!! BEES!!!" at her she seemed to suddenly get it and started running, too.

So we got inside and examined the girls who were stung. Procedure dictates that we put ice on the stings, find out if they've been stung before (first sting sensitizes you, second one, if you're going to react, you will) and watch them for a few minutes for any sort of respiratory distress or other difficulties. Then, when you're sure they're not going to have an allergic reaction, you call the parents.

And since I happened to have an ice chest full of happy little ice cubes, that part was relatively easy.

I got Ella's* mom on the phone first. My phone, as we left the clipboard, the cell phone, the first aid kit and Erin's glasses on the blacktop near the play structures.

I got her voice mail.
Sensible, I don't answer my phone if I don't recognize the number either. I hadn't called her from the site phone, that was sitting on the playground in a swarm of nasty little motherfucking asshole hornets.

Told her, "Ella was stung five times by some nasty little hornets on the playground about five minutes ago. She is not experiencing any secondary issues, but I need to have you call me at this number (123) 456-7890."

Then I called Holly's* mom. Also went to voice mail. Left her the same message.

Meanwhile, Erin had rejoined us. She called her husband to come get her, being distraught and sick and afraid to drive.

My phone rang. Ella's mom. She was just on the edge of being in a panic. "Is she breathing okay? Are you watching her?"

I worked hard to sound reassuring.
"She is not having any symptoms of an allergic reaction. If she were, you would have been my second phone call. I would have called for medical assistance first, then notified you."

She calmed down immediately.

"Thank you so much. That makes me feel so much better to know that."

"Oh I'm a mom," I said. "So they're my kids when I'm here at work. Ella was stung five times and we have ice on all the stings."

"FIVE TIMES!!" She was upset all over again. "Can you give her some Benadryl?"

"I'm sorry," I told her. "I am not allowed to give medication to children without doctor's instructions."

I let Ella talk to her mom. It was agreed that if it got worse or she wanted to go home, she could call her mom back and her mom would come get her.

About the time she hung up, Holly's mom called. We went through the same conversation, even down to the number of stings.

It was horrendous, and I can't say we were lucky because kids got hurt, but it could have been so much worse. I have seen bees boil out like that on television and in cartoons, but I have never seen it up close and personal. I don't care to see it again.

I was SO ANGRY about the bees. I wanted to go out with gasoline and a match and take care of the goddamn nest. I'm still angry. How DARE those little shits hurt my kids?????? GRRRRRR.

So now the playground is off limits. We will have to play in other areas of the playground for a few days until the exterminators come back out and take care of the problem. But you know, they've had several chances to do so. I can't imagine how they missed such a large nest.

And this is the 2nd summer in a row that we've had bees. Two different schools, same little bastard kind of bees.

It wasn't a boring day.

I usually edit a post, by the way, but it's past my bedtime. So if there are typos and grammatical errors, I will just have to catch them later.

How was your day?