Always one keen to create an element of amusement in the cruel minds of my fellows, I have rarely missed an opportunity to provide such entertainment through occasional tales related against myself.
Last night I repaired to my bed-chamber, very sleepily, after packing another load of kit ready for our move. My sleep gear was neatly laid on top of my bed and I duly donned it. I then clambered into the pit and lay on my side, ready to read a chapter or two of a latest book before crashing.
I became aware of a slight tweak of pain - similar to the pull of a leg hair caught up in something. I shifted my leg to release it and rub the area better, when I became aware of a lump. The slight pain suddenly began to develop at a startling rate and I sprang out of bed muttering (nay screaming in high volume Saxon language and panic).
I tore off the offending garment.
Whereupon the biggest bloody bumble-bee I’ve ever seen in my life took off from the crotch of my sleep bottoms and flew lazily across the room - looking and sounding like a Wellington bomber returning from a raid over occupied France.
Such was the escalating pain that I could not even see the funny side of Bold Boris, the FFBBSD Kat, leaping off his air-strip at the bottom of my bed and trying to attack it in mid air like a just scrambled feline Spitfire.
By the time Boris had ungracefully thudded face first into the front of the wardrobe and left the gargantuan bomber circling lazily above his collapsed and grounded pile of fur, I was already hot-footing it into the bathroom in a screaming search for anti-hystamine …. oil …. Savlon …. any kind of panacea to the horror of what was going on between my legs.
Eventually, with one rubbing hand trying to ease the pain, while the other twisted a tube of ointment (the top of which I gripped by my teeth), I managed to apply the AH cream and gradually the pain began to subside over the next hour or so.
Now one may well find it necessary to shake out one’s boots or clothes before donning them in certain parts of the world but I can’t say that it’s ever proved necessary in an early spring East Kent before.
BE WARNED to check your clothes when there are bees about - bumble or otherwise!