You Call THAT Overreacting?

SNACK

Some people get stung by a wasp and they shrug it off.
I’ve seen it.
I am not one of those people.

We got take out burritos for dinner,
And were going to zip down to the lake shore to eat them.
I turned south onto a side street and with my right hand pulled my hair back out of my face.
Then I screamed,
Bloody murder.
I slammed on the breaks and looked at my hand.
There was some sort of stinger at the base of my ring finger.
I pulled it out and flung it out the open window.
“Was it a bee?! Was it a bee?! Oh my god, IS IT STILL IN MY HAIR?!”
I put the car in park so I could make my escape.
Before I could, though,
My husband said, “Yes it is!”
And he started swatting at my head with a fistful of paper napkins.
“Where is it now?!”
“I don’t know. Get out of the car!”
I was already on it.
I swung the car door open all the way and ran over to the sidewalk,
Where I proceeded to shake out my hair,
And then drop to my knees screaming and crying.
Because it HURT.
Also, I don’t know if I’ve ever been stung by a bee before (or was it a wasp?),
And what if I’m allergic,
And wasn’t my whole hand swelling up now?
And was that the tingling sensation of death running up my arm?
I was flailing.
Traffic was now backed up on this sleepy side street,
Because of course I stopped the car right in the middle of the road,
And the driver’s door was still wide open.
I got myself together enough to get back in the car and pull away.
Soon the pain started to subside,
And I turned to my husband and said,
“Did you really have to throw all the napkins out the window?
What are we going to use for the burritos now?”