Karma stings

A few days ago, I shared a comical story with a friend at work about my husband getting stung by a swarm of bees. I gave all the details of his attack and the bee stings that resulted from it. The oohs and the aahs, the hopping and dancing, etc. I will not share the story today because...

Yesterday, I WAS ATTACKED BY A SWARM OF BEES as I left work. Leaving work I felt a pain in my leg. I looked down and didn't see anything. Right away I felt the same feeling in a different spot. What the heck! There were several bees stuck to my pants. I started to pull them off in a panic. A man from the next office asked if I needed help. I told him I was being attacked by bees. He informed me of the swarm I had just passed by (better late than never?) As he talked and pointed, I was stung again. He then came to my aid and helped fend off the ruthless insects. I had never been attacked by bees. Stung, yes. But not attacked.

Immediately I knew it was my betrayal of my husband. I did not mean to betray him, of course. After the fact, it seemed harmless and hilarious. (my friend shared my opinion as well)

I learned a valuable lesson yesterday. Do not share someone else's misfortune's- as funny as the story may be- unless you are willing to experience it first-hand. I laughed all the way home from work. I thought of my husband. I thought of my story. Most of all, I thought about how ridiculous I must have looked hopping and bopping, picking off the bees. It was one of those moments you wish someone was there to share the memory with, because no one will ever know how funny it was... the day I got attacked by a swarm of bees!