30 Summers of Bee-Gut.

Our dead end street was littered with children, all gathered for yet another game of kickball on a hot summer afternoon. Suddenly, the game was brought to a halt by a black and yellow invader. A small honey bee had the audacity to lazily fly by me as I stood way in the “outfield.”

I have been, and still am, ridiculously and inexplicably afraid of all bee-type insects for as long as I can remember.  It was not, and still is not, unusual to find me screaming and flailing my arms in attempts to thwart attack.
On this particular day, many moons ago, the little bee was following me, threatening my very existence.  I ran away, disrupting the game and annoying everyone who was trying to play.  One of the boys swatted the bee, knocking it to the ground.  The bee was frying on the asphalt, but that wasn’t good enough for me.  I could see its legs moving, so there was still a chance it could get me.
As we stood around the bee, older kids complaining that this distraction was taking up too much time, someone decided to step in and put an end to it.  One large, beat up high-top sneaker came crashing down, squishing the bee to oblivion. He lifted his shoe and to our collective surprise, the bee was no longer on the ground.  A chorus of “Where did it go?” could be heard out of nearly everyone.
“Michelle probably ate it,” one of them said.
“Yeah, it’s in her gut!” said another.
“I did not eat it!! It’s probably stuck to your shoe!  Look at your shoe!” I was furious at the accusation and the sheer stupidity of it.
“Shut up, Bee-Gut,” my brother said.
They kept looking at the ground and refusing to look at the bottom of the sneaker. I knew they’d find the bee if they looked in the right spot.  I hysterically urged for some common sense and was met only with more laughter and name calling. In a last ditch effort to win this one, I called them all idiots.
“At least I’m not a Bee-Gut,” my brother provided as his final, calm retort.
One by one, each kid laughed and began sing-song chanting:
Beeeeeee-Guuuuuuuut!
Beeeeeee-Guuuuuuuut!
I ran home crying, but I could still hear them.
Beeeeeee-Guuuuuuuut!
I stomped in the back door of my house.  My mother was engrossed in All My Children, so her actual child’s problem was on the back burner.  During the next commercial break, she finally asked me what was wrong.  I spilled the whole story and pleaded with her to punish her son.
“Well,” she said after some consideration, “did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Did you eat the bee?” and then she started laughing at me, too.
Her show came back on and I was sent back outside.
They called me Bee-Gut for the rest of the summer, and it’s been brought up every summer since.
***
I was outside this weekend with my husband and son, trimming our rhododendron.  A bee flew in and Kris warned Nathan to stay back.  
“Hey, hon?” he said casually to me.
“Yeah?”
“Hungry?”

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41 thoughts on “30 Summers of Bee-Gut.

  1. eringraves.me

    Oh Michelle, I felt the pain of being that kid that gets picked on for the lamest thing and then the hilarity that it endures to this day for no good reason. Great post!

    1. Michelle Longo

      I’m sure the reason that it all happened in the first place was that I acted so ridiculously about the bee in the first place and then, instead of just letting the bee-gut thing go I cried and tattled and acted even more ridiculous. I was never a “let it go” kind of kid 🙂

  2. Robbie K

    kids can be cruel and it’s made worse when it seems like no one cares. I’m allergic to bees so I’m glad that sucker is dead.

    1. Michelle Longo

      The only reason no one cared was because I was old enough to know that older kids tease the younger ones and if I didn’t make such a big deal about it they would have stopped. I made it too fun for them to continue.

      I’m not allergic, I have been stung and it really wasn’t that bad. I do not know why I am so afraid of them. I can’t even look at pictures of them without freaking out.

  3. cynk

    Wow-this story was a bit of a roller coaster. Your mom’s remark seemed like it would feel worse than any bee sting.

    Of course, my bee story is that when I was four or five, I was stung on the tongue at the county fair while eating cotton candy. I guess that makes me the bee gut.

    1. Michelle Longo

      Your comment gave me the chills. That sounds terrible!! I did get stung on the arm once by a yellow jacket and it really wasn’t that bad. My fear is completely irrational.

  4. PAMO

    So funny! Your Mom’s response was simply perfect. Good thing hubby gets to play along. I really enjoyed this read.

    1. Michelle Longo

      Thanks! I probably had gone inside to complain or tattle a hundred times that morning. My mother was over it, but wouldn’t miss a chance to make fun 🙂

  5. Mamarific

    Pretty darn good story! I like the part when you pleaded to the kids to look at the bottom of the shoe for the bee. I remember the frustration when kids were wrong about something and wouldn’t let it go.

    1. Michelle Longo

      As long as the spiders don’t get on me, I’m fine. We’ve had the same little one in a little web in a corner by our front door and he’s not bothering anyone so I left him. Big ones get scooted outside though 🙂

  6. Diane E. Main, GCT NorCal 2006

    Okay, so I’m gonna need names. Or at least initials. I don’t remember this kickball game, but I do remember another (related) incident I will share in an effort to out myself and restore my karma.

    I think your brother must have told me about this after the fact and I teased you by singing “Be Good Johnny” by Men at Work, substituting “bee gut” for Be Good. I was a freakin’ scream even back then, eh?

  7. Michelle Longo

    Yes, I recall you singing that. Thanks for having my back there, friend.

    It was the usual crew – Edison Place kids, Josh, Damon, Jason, Jim, Shannon, Little Michelle was probably there too, but I can’t recall for sure.

  8. LOL Elo Boost

    As we stood around the bee, older kids complaining that this distraction was taking up too much time, someone decided to step in and put an end to it. One large, beat up high-top sneaker came crashing down, squishing the bee to oblivion. He lifted his shoe and to our collective surprise, the bee was no longer on the ground. A chorus of “Where did it go?” could be heard out of nearly everyone.
    Cheap LOL Elo Boost

    LOL IP

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