…(and still being in avoidance of The D Word issues, a quick and brainless story)…
Daughter Person (… yes, and Spousal Unit [heavy sigh]) have returned from visiting family. My virtual vacation is over. But, nonetheless, it is very good to see the Girl Child again.
More stories to come from her about her trip, I’m sure, but the first one she told me about had to be shared.
Daughter Person, though of adult age (just), is still my daughter. So, when she wears a pair of pants that rides all the way down to just north of her hoo-hoo forest… or wears shorts that are cut so short that an ill-timed bend-over would run the chance of revealing more than just her modesty… my Dad genes take over and I chastise her choice, suggesting she wear something much less revealing
(Ed. Note: As a side thought… I do realize the irony of chiding the Girl Child over wearing such clothes while knowing–and accepting–that my still active hormones likewise cause me to seek out just such revealing costumery in women more of my age… okay, within 15 years of my age. I’m a mess and admit it…).
So Girl Child shares that she was wearing one of her too short shorts while taking a side trip yesterday. On getting back in the car, she unknowingly let a bee (species Apoidea… there’s the title reference!) into the car.
Girl Child: …but that’s not the worst of it, Dad. It somehow landed on the seat just before I sat down.
GnuKid: Ooo, did it sting you on your “Byew-tocks*”?
Girl Child: No [wince]… it stung me in my crotchal region…
Ouch! (but serves her right for wearing those shorts!) [and Pop is proud of Daughter Person adjectivizing those nouns…{chuckle}…’crotchal’…]
And, yeah, she’s feeling just fine…
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*This pronunciation of ‘buttocks’ is an affectation I picked up from watching Lee Marvin in the movie “Cat Ballou”.
Tags: angry bee, education, Humor, that'll teach her to wear short shorts, unfortunate placement
The Wilds of Ohio 
August 24, 2008 at 22:41 |
Glad she is okay. Being allergic to the nasty creatures, I break out in a sweat whenever I see one and make a mental note of where the epi-pen is – just in case.
August 24, 2008 at 23:07 |
I would rather die than discuss any part of my anatomy with my father!
But, yes…considering my sister nearly died from two bee stings, just a couple of weeks ago…I’m glad to know she is okay!
August 25, 2008 at 04:03 |
I see the girl child has inherited your trait for colourful language. Crissum. Byew-tocks. And now crotchal 🙂 The Gnu’s are obviously colouful people 🙂 As to your dad behaviour coming to the fore, it’s normal. My dad is 65 and still treats me like I am 5. I think sometimes that he is jealous that my hugs and kisses and affection are no longer reserved for him alone. It’s tough being surplanted by someone else, particularly when, as you rightly point out, he knows exactly what’s on the, er suplantee’s, agenda 😉
August 25, 2008 at 04:11 |
Actually, it sounded to me like Girl Child has been reading Nurse Myra behind your back. What with all the talk of breastages and such. And all I can say is “ouch” and I’m glad she’s not allergic. Imagine having to go to the emergency room for such a bite! Bad enough have doctor persons poking around in your va-jay-jay for routine medical stuff.
August 25, 2008 at 07:55 |
annie – she has lots of allergies, but thankfully not that one. nonetheless, a visit to the allergist for some epi-pens (i’m assuming a prescription is rquired) may not be such a bad idea
leavingevangeline – our communications aren’t as open as i’d like, but i’ll take this over silence. use colorful metaphors and it’ll confuse your father. there’s fun in that too.
parenthesis – i am proud of her, truly. a sense of humor is essential in the world today. and she’ll always be that quiet, beautiful 5-year-old to me… now with colorful language skillz, but still…
silverstar – not nursemyra, NO!! she’ll be ruined for life! [chuckle] and i always knew us guys were lucky that we didn’t have to have our private-no-no places routinely ‘inspected’ by the docs… sympathies (and, yes, glad Girl Child wasn’t allergic!)
August 25, 2008 at 08:43 |
“hoo-hoo forest”
That rocks. I will so totally need to use that in an adult (moreso) setting.
August 25, 2008 at 09:40 |
A painful lesson, to say the least.
August 25, 2008 at 11:41 |
Oooh. My nether regions just went all puckered.
Eina!
(As we say in these here parts. Roughly translated as….OUCH!)
August 26, 2008 at 07:17 |
stephanie – glad to be an educational beacon in your life… sort of counters the Cartman definition of boy/girl parts (‘who put his hoo-hoo-dilly in your cha-cha?”), but seemed to fit, nonetheless.
kyknoord – she was still walking without a limp, so i don’t think it was too awful. i’m thinking she won’t learn the lesson, though. stubborn kids…
dolce – just so… mine did the same, even though i have boy parts… must be instinctive… (and the irony struck again…).
August 26, 2008 at 23:21 |
i have boy parts?
shouldn’t you give them back before the police are notified?
August 27, 2008 at 13:09 |
As I always say to my nieces, I know what these men are thinking when they see you. It’s the same thing I think when I see someone else’s niece, and I don’t like them thinking that about you. For me, hypocrisy is a lifestyle choice.
August 27, 2008 at 21:11 |
daisyfae – it’s okay, the parts are related to me… oooo, that’s not so good either… umm… they’re MINE! attached… that sort of “…have boy parts…”
UK – sound philosophical advice… wallow in my own hypocrisy. i think this is a lifestyle i can easily embrace… thank you, Obiwan!
August 29, 2008 at 08:16 |
ouchy ouch ouch!