Remember how in the very beginning I said we’d definitely talk about bees?
Well, here we go.
For whatever reason, the things that stick in my mind are always fruit related. That or we just have a lot of drama around fruit.
Really I can’t decide which it is. But it’s definitely one of those.
So, we had our first apple picking adventure the other weekend.
Before I start, I just need to let you allllllll know *for the record* that bees and wasps and any kind of flying thing that stings or bites like to swarm me.
Apparently I am the most amazing, vibrant, fragrant flower in the history of botany.
Except I’m a person.
Who doesn’t like being swarmed by things that sting.
So, our day starts like any other picture perfect instagrammable nostalgic apple orchard experience. We have a wooden basket. A wagon. Birds singing their morning songs. Crisp, cool air smelling of wet dew and new life. The sun trying to burn through the early morning fog. Laughing kids and a muddy dirt road leading to a lush green orchard filled with rows upon rows of trees, all teeming with apples. Rolling hills giving way to mountains in the background.
Kellan was over the moon excited. Wide eyed and full of wonder. He could just walk up to a tree and pluck off an apple and keep it. Just like that.
Hunter wanted to
eat gum them and “clap” two together, much to Kellan’s chagrin, as he was trying to only select the most perfect apples.
As we were going up and down the rows in the orchard, Kellan kept stopping and going to different trees because there were <record scratch> yellow jackets everywhere. They were mostly on the ground around all of the fallen apples.
Tim was completely nonchalant like Kellan. Pick the apples. The bees don’t care. They don’t see you as a threat. They don’t feel any competition.
They aren’t going to come after your apples.
There are plenty of apples everywhere.
Decomposing ones on the ground.
Fresh ones all over the trees.
Apples for everybody and every bee.
And for the most part, that was factual.
The bees stayed out of the way.
That is, until the veeeeery end when I decide to try an apple.
I mean, what happened was the reality of our situation suddenly dawned on me.
We were picking all of these apples and filling a huge basket and we had no idea what they even tasted like.
What if they were terrible?
What if we didn’t like them?
What did we even do if we didn’t like them?……
As a responsible adult, I needed to take one for the team. I was not about to bring a shame bucket to the register like we didn’t try before we picked and now here’s a whole pile of apples…..
So, as we were walking to some new trees, I plucked a glistening red apple off a branch while I was holding Hunter (because bees on the ground plus crawling child is not a desirable combo).
I took a bite and then let Hunter have a “bite” (because gums and also because this kid wants to try and eat everything).
It was the most delicious piece of fruit I have ever had in my entire life. If this was what the apple tasted like that Eve ate, I really can’t blame her. Girl couldn’t help herself.
Neither could the bees.
Right before I took another bite, a yellow jacket flew onto it. And then it decided Hunter’s shirt right below his chin was an amazing place to forage.
Drool plus apple juice. Bee magnet. FYI.
So here I am…..having this debate in my head….what to do….what to do….
Hunter in one arm, a chin drop away from experiencing the really shocking reality about bees….and in the other hand, the most extraordinary apple I have ever had in my entire life.
During this internal debate, my apple was sending some invisible signal to every bee within a ten mile radius. TRY ME. EAT ME. HERE I AM. FIND THE CRAZY WOMAN WITH THE BABY.
What to do…….what to do…….
I’ll tell you exactly what I did.
AHHHHHHHHHH THERE’S A BEE!!!! IT’S ON HUNTER’S SHIRT!!! HELP!!!!!! BEE!!!!!!
MAKE IT GO AWAY!!!!!!!!!!
Tim ran over from picking apples with Kellan a few trees down and started calmly tying to blow the bee off of Hunter’s shirt.
Obviously, I was not able to help other than by holding the apple in the air as far away from Hunter as possible and yelling THAT’S NOT WORKING! IT WON’T LEAVE!
Finally, after Tim had had enough of my bee panic dance, he looks at me and is like, “Seriously woman. JUST DROP THE APPLE. OMG. You’re waving around a torch like a maniac and wondering why the whole room is on fire!”
I hesitated…then I tossed it away. I watched it roll under a nearby tree and I looked over at Tim and whined all, “You don’t understand. That was the best apple in the whole world. It really didn’t deserve that.”
But you guys.
I really really really wanted to eat that apple.
I wanted to eat that apple more than anything I have ever wanted to eat in my whole life. More than the forgotten piece of wedding cake our coordinator neglected put in our bag on our wedding night. And let me tell you I have never been more disappointed to open a container expecting cake and seeing chicken. Chicken! We painstakingly put that cake together flavor by flavor, layer by layer. And then to not even get to sit and devour it in gluttonous glory….it was a sad night that I still think about periodically, mourning over the cake I’ll never get to have.
All of this is to say that I wanted that apple more than I wanted that cake.
And I had to throw it.