We packed up the van on Friday and got ready to head back home. It’s always nice to get away, but there’s something about one’s own bed, isn’t there? I was not especially looking forward to the drive home, which I am not usually bothered by, so it was kind of a weird morning.
We said our goodbyes and hit the road. Driving out of Chicago on Lake Shore Drive always makes me a little sad. The first time I “left” when I decided to move south, I drove out of Chicago with tears streaming down my face. I was just remembering that trip when I heard a blood curdling scream from the back seat.
My first thought was that we were about to be T-Boned by someone. It was that sort of scream. Imminent danger.
I could tell it was Maggie from the sheer volume, the tone and the ear that was now ringing.
As I quickly looked into all the mirrors and back at her at the same time, I saw a freaking ginormous bee fly right past my head.
Great. And we’re driving in traffic and Maggie is deathly afraid of bees. Not that I am particularly fond of them, but seriously, the girl has bee issues. I told the kids I was going to roll the windows down and we would pull over to get the bee out. I stayed calm and reassured Maggie that the bee was in fact in the front seat, with me.
We got off at the next exit and I pulled over into a gated entrance, did an illegal U-turn and stopped at the side with my hazards on. I rustled around in our snack bag to see if it was hiding in there. I never found it, and we decided to keep going. I imagined we would see it again and wondered just how long it would take us to get out of the city.
Luck was on our side. We got back on the road and never saw our little friend again.
(Nick’s lymph node is still swollen and hard. We’re going to the doctor tomorrow morning.)