My hopes for mother-daughter bonding around beekeeping were dashed when I took Emma to the hives. All seemed to be going well. Meghan - young, friendly, and almost as freckly as my daughter - talked us through the hive, showing frames of bees and honey as she went. Her description of what happens to successful drones during the queen's nuptial flight were titillating.Emma wore the only extra bee veil. I stood ten feet away, looking on from a secure distance. And I got stung, right in the middle of my forehead. Horrid.
No, I didn't scream or cry. I just said, "Oh" and jumped a little. I was proud of myself. But still.
Now she hates bees.
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