Bees In My Pants

*Disclaimer: My flair for the dramatic makes this a slightly longer post than usual.

I am sure most of you are familiar with the idiom 'ants in my pants.'  Well, how about 'bees in my pants?'

On Friday we finally got the call that our package of honey bees would be ready to pick up on Sunday morning.  I had already exhausted my fear of the arrival a couple of weeks ago when we were originally scheduled to receive them.  So, during a week of flu being transferred from one child to another, I had enough things to focus on rather than the bees. 

Come Saturday night, however, Jason and I frantically prepared the follower board, sugar water, and hive tools for Sunday morning.  My dad was scheduled to watch the girls while we drove to pick-up the bees and while we introduced the bees to their new home.  Unfortunately for my dad, the flu train had traveled to him and he send Mom in his stead.

We headed out on our fairly short journey, reciting to each other the bee installation procedure: spray sugar water, hit bees down, remove queen, out with the cork - quick in with the marshmallow, etc. until we were somewhat confident in our plan.  Bee pick-up was pretty straight forward, but we hadn't decided on where to put the bees for the ride home.  Jason nixed the plan of having them as far in the back of the truck as possible, as a stray bump or quick turn could out the can of sugar water and release the 8,000 relocating passengers.  And so, the bees sat on the floor in the front seat between my legs.  Mind you (those of you who think me crazy) the majority of the bees, save a handful of hitchhikers, were INSIDE the box.  The ride's single notable event, however, was a single bee that took flight in front of my face only to poop on my left sleeve; then back to the box side she flew.

We got home, and, in a palpable elation, Jason and I readied for the installation by gowning up and heading out back with all we needed.  Perhaps notable at this point, is that I had decided to wear only a long sleeve shirt with veil and Jason had decided to wear a basic veil.  Neither of us hadchosen to don the full head to toe bee gear, but neither of us are perturbed by this decision.

The installation proceeded quite well.  The queen did not escape; good news.  A majority of the bees were still alive; a plus.  After shaking as many bees into the top bar hive as I could, I placed the box near the entrance and then proceeded to helping my husband brush as many as we could into the intended chamber where they were to begin their new residence.  At this point, I felt a gentle tickling near my right leg.  I looked down and saw both a bee on the outside of my pants and the gentle breeze brushing my pant leg onto and off of my leg.  No problem.  Continued with the hive preparation.  Minimized bee squish-age, covered hive, stood back and observed said new hobby.

Odd, something was tickling my left leg.  And that breeze that was here a moment ago, was no longer, yet the tickling had not subsided.  'Jason,' I stated as calmly as if I were drifting off to sleep, 'I have bees in my pants.'  I slowly began backing away from the hive, and, though my husbands first inclination was to 'drop your pants', I tended for a more subtle response, for which I am sure my neighbors are thankful, of slowly rolling up my pant legs to gentle lure the misguided ladies away from my bikini line and fragile girl bits.

Left pant leg up mid shin, bee escaped.  Right pant leg up mid shin, stinger left in pant leg became lodged in left ring finger, bee escaped.  All was well.  We brushed the remaining stragglers off our veils and headed back to the house.  Despite a complete inspection of each other, Jason and I still suffered phantom bee crawling throughout the rest of the day.

bees in my pants
Idiom.
A phrase referring to someone well composed in the face of potential pain and/or danger.  If someone has 'bees in their pants,' they are reluctant to move for fear of being stung and upsetting 8,000 bee comrads.

Honey bees are not as scary as you think.  In fact, unlike wasps or hornets, they are not likely to sting you unless you are a threat to their hive or queen.  For more information on bees, talk to me.