By Nate Odenkirk and Ari Mostow | Staff Writers
Day one:
I am terrified of bees. My therapist recommended that I start a bee hive so I can get over my fears in a proactive way. I’m very excited, but I hope they see me as a friend and don’t sting me. I thought about what I should wear, and I settled on the bee costume I wore for Halloween so the bees would be more comfortable with me.
Since there’s already a garden in the backyard, the attic will have to do for now. My wife wanted a cat, and even though I didn’t want a cat, we got one anyway, so it’s only fair I get a few dozen bees. But in due time, hopefully, I can convince her that bees are worth having around the house. I hope she’s okay with me using the attic. I’m planning on using the empty space between the old Ikea furniture and the extra crutches.
The only thing missing is some starter bees. I ordered them on Amazon Prime, so they should get here by tomorrow. All that’s left to do is smear the attic in honey!
“Hi, I am unavailable to answer the phone right now. If you leave your –ow, OW! HEY! The bees are attacking me! Just –OW! Hey guys c’mon I’m trying to record my—” BEEP
Day two:
Boy, no one told me these bees would be ANGRY. The bee costume has only made the situation worse as they now perceive me to be a very large, unfriendly bee. Whenever I come up to the attic to check on them, they immediately begin stinging my face… I guess it worked a little too well.
My son Francis, who is 13, says he can’t get any sleep because the bees are directly above his room and the buzzing sound constantly terrifies him. I’m sure he’ll get over it, though. I can already feel myself getting more comfortable around bees and it’s only a matter of time before the buzzing dies down.
Whether my son likes it or not, the bees are here to stay. They’re a part of the family now.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
“Hi!”
“…What is your emergency?”
“I have too many bees. Can you send someone to pick them up?”
“Sir, we no longer respond to swarm control requests. Our officers have been stung enough.”
“Oh, ok. Would you like some bees?”
“No.”
“Thank you!”
Day three:
Francis has been having horrible allergic reactions to the bees. I thought that he just didn’t like them but it turns out he cannot be in the same household as hundreds of angry bees.
Day four:
I dropped Francis off at the orphanage today. Frances looked at me and said “Dad, it’s either me or the bees.” Since he was the only one complaining, and the bees didn’t seem to have any problem with him, I thought it would be unfair to kick out the bees. I’ll miss Francis. I guess the bees will be my children now.
Francis was a smart kid. He told me getting bees in the attic was a bad idea. Should have listened to him. I’ll visit him when he’s in the foster system and even send him a jar of honey on his birthday.
Day five:
The house is off limits. Ever since the bees got out of the attic, they’ve totally taken over every room in the house, and I don’t have an inch of space to my name. I’ll be couch surfing for the first couple of weeks. It’s hard to get someone to let you into their house if you’re wearing an oversized bee costume drenched in old honey.
All I wanted to do was make my fear of bees go away. But now I fear my wife, whose name is Francine. She gets home from her business trip tomorrow, and I’m not sure how she’ll react to the homelessness situation. I also haven’t seen the cat in days, so there’s that problem too. I’d like to go back to being scared of bees.
Overall, though, getting to be a beekeeper is pretty neat. ♦