Last night we were reading a short story from the great American author Mark Twain. Our selection for the evening was one of stories entitled “The Bad Little Boy”. The story is about a bad little boy that never gets in trouble, never gets found out, and gets away with everything. There is no moral truth behind his actions. In fact, he grows up, gets married, has a big family (that he bludgeoned to death with an ax), and then becomes a respected member of the legislature.
Now during the reading of this great American short story, a bumblebee decided to join the oration of Mr. Twain. He buzzed by my ear as I tried to flick him away. He came back at me as I stood up and tried to get away. At that point my old dog Jackson, walked forward and tried to come close to me. The bee, being completely subjective, decided that he was a warm body that was worth stinging. The bee flew towards Jackson and stung him once. I swatted at the bee with my copy of Mark Twain. I hit the bee, but he came rushing back towards the dog at lightning speed and stung him again. I whacked the bee again and managed to hit it away. Jackson ran into the house and jumped in the bathtub scared to death. I don’t know if he was more scared of the bee that was stinging him, or if he was afraid of the fact that I was hitting him with a book!
After the bee inflicted his damage on the dog he went after my youngest child and stung him on the arm. My son was in shock trying to figure out what had just happened. He grabbed his arm and began to scream in pain. After my wife tried to get the bee away from him, it attacked her as well. The bee rushed in and stung my wife on the leg. She finally was able to give it a good whack and stun the bee to the ground. I took Mark Twain over to where the bee lay stunned and hit it as hard as I could with the back of the book.
This whole incident happened within about fifteen seconds. It seemed like an eternity. It was one of the most surreal situations I have ever seen. It is a story that will live in infamy and one that my children will probably tell their children. As for the bee, it is not for me to judge the state of its eternal soul, but I doubt it accepted Christ in it’s last seconds on earth. I do know one thing, he wasn’t much of a Mark Twain fan.