My phobia

We had a lot of extra time last weekend with 4 days off school, and Ellie was bored one of the afternoons and wanted to go to the park. So we hopped into the car and started off. We got about 3 blocks from the house when Ellie announced quite calmly that there was a bee in the car. Well, I immediately ditched the car at the side of the road, told Ellie the trip was over and walked back home to tell Greg to go back and get rid of the bee. You see, I have a terrible phobia of bees and wasps that is completely out of proportion to the danger they pose to me or to my loved ones. (But, really, screw my loved ones. It's just me I'm worried about.)

So I sent Greg out to kill the bee and he drove the car back and informed me that not only did he not find a bee in the car, but he didn't believe me that there ever was a bee in the car. How is that for support? His own wife and his own daughter assured him that they both saw the bee and he still didn't believe it. Besides, he came back way too soon---maybe five minutes later. You have to allow at least 15 or 20 minutes of searching before you declare a car bee free. But the three of us looked some more and we didn't find anything, so I reluctantly agreed to get back in.

Three days later (yesterday), I started out for my trip to my dad's. I was merrily driving along, listening to NPR and drinking my coffee when all of a sudden the bee dropped like a stone down from the ceiling, past my eyes and directly onto me. I looked down and saw the thing squiggling around in my lap. This thing did not just fly haphazardly around me. It was some kind of a commando bee and it deliberately and (I believe) with complete forethought assaulted me.

It is a testament to my new level of maturity that I did not crash the car. When I was in my 20s, I ran into the car in front of me because I was trying to shoo a bee that looked like it might be about to enter my car. And when I was about 6 months pregnant with Ellie, I ran into the car in front of me because a bee was on me while I was driving. (Don't worry, both incidents were very minor fender benders.) So I do have a bit of a history. This time, I very slowly veered over the to the side of the road, parked the car, and carefully took off my seat belt all while the bee was crawling up my jacket and obviously going for my neck. It wasn't until after I opened the door that I threw myself out of the car, flung my jacket off my back onto the ground and then jumped furiously on it while flailing my arms around like an insane person.

After the white fog of terror lifted, I realized that I didn't see the bee anymore. Anywhere. Did it fall into the car? On the ground? Was it dead? Alive? Was it under my seat? I had no clue. And I still had to drive 120 miles to my dad's. I searched and searched through the car, on the ground, in my jacket, everywhere. No bee. I tried calling Greg and freaking out at him for a good 10 minutes but that didn't make the bee appear either. I had no choice. I had to get back in the car and drive.

I forced myself to think: What is the worst thing that could happen? Well, the true worst thing that could happen is that the bee could land on me again and I could freak out on the highway, crash my car and die. But the worst thing that could happen in my mind is that the bee could land on me and sting me. So I resigned myself to that outcome. I told myself over and over that the bee was going to sting me and it would hurt but that it wouldn't hurt forever and I would get over it. And it worked! I was able to drive without too much fear all the way to my dad's and then later that night all the way back. And it turns out that the bee didn't come back anyway.

I would like to think that I have now overcome my fear, at least a little bit. But that car is in the driveway and there is still the possibility that there's a bee in it. So I've been using the other car.