The Youngest Critic

It was one of those idyllic scenes, like the ones to see in movies - right before something bad happens.

My wife Dawn and I were on the deck talking about life and taking in the summer sky. My two youngest children Michael, 5, and David, 2, were in the yard spraying away the heat and humidity with a garden hose.

It was a perfect Sunday afternoon.

And then Michael screamed.

He came running up on the deck. "A bee stinged me!" He was panicked.

"Where did he sting you?" I said. "Here and here an here," Michael pointed to his hand, his leg and his foot. It didn't make sense that a bee would sting that many times. I picked him up to run to the sink when I noticed Dawn running through the yard to get David.

As I was pouring cold water on the stings, Michael explained to me that there were a lot of bees and that he ran away. That's when Dawn came running into the house carrying David, "Oh my God, Larry, David was covered with bees." David was screaming.

"Get him up the bathtub," I said. Dawn ran upstairs with David and I followed carrying Michael. We took their clothes off and filled the tub. Dead bees were everywhere. One flew out of Dawn's shirt and Michael flipped out, waving his hands in the air to make certain more bees weren't after them.

We gave the kids children's benadryl. Michael and his three stings seemed fine after a few minutes. David had over twenty stings. Dawn, who saved David, had about ten.

Michael explained to me that he shot the hose into a tree stump and hundreds of angry bees filled the air; a bee posse looking for the shooter.

Michael ran. David stood in one place and covered his face.

Dawn told me that "it was like a scene out of a movie (refer to first sentence of post). You couldn't see David's head for the bees." Dawn picked him up and the bees started stinging her. She dropped on the ground and rolled. Who knew "Stop, Drop and Roll" was a multi-purpose tragedy technique?

We called the pediatrician who said that if the kids were allergic we probably would have found out immediately. She suggested we take them to the ER anyway to be checked out. We did.

That night I lit the tree stump on fire. As the fire reflected in my eyes, I reflected on the day. I thought how lucky the children were to have a mother like Dawn, who ran into a swarm of bees to pick up her child and then instinctively knew what to do. We were also lucky that our children did not have bee allergies.

Or so we thought.

Two nights later I heard David screaming. I ran into his room and he was gasping for air. Dawn was still dressed from work, so she rushed him once again to the Chestnut Hill ER. They took David in the back immediately and gave him a shot of adrenaline.

A child who is gasping for air doesn't have to wait and gets a lot of attention.

Six people gathered around David. A male nurse was having a difficult time finding David's vain to insert a intravenous needle. Everything was silent on the third try and David was screaming. "Darn. Nope. One more time."

The fourth try - everyone was standing back watching - "I just can't find a vein."

And with that my little boy sat up. He stopped crying. Pointed at the nurse - and as clear as a bell yelled - "Idiot!"

Everyone in the ER laughed. Dawn laughed too but was mortified and said the same thing that every parent says in that situation - "I don't know where he heard that."

The male nurse was laughing too. Dawn said, "I'm sorry." The nurse responded, "No, I don't blame him and I have been called worse - just never by a two year old before."

The important thing is that David laughed too. Of course, he said it again - and again - and again. But he also relaxed - and the nurse was able to insert the needle and tape it up.

David was transported to Children's Hospital for observation. The best mother in the world held him in her arms and slept in the ER.

The doctors think David's immune system was down and he was either allergic to something else or caught croup. They aren't really sure, but he is fine now.

The "idiot" story will be told in my home for eternity - and in the nurse's home - and in his colleagues' homes. It was one of those priceless moments that cut through tension and signaled that everything was going to be okay.

People look down on cliches - I don't. They become cliches for two reasons - they are clever and they are true. And so I end this story with one - laughter really is the best medicine.

For more information on bee stings - click here for webMD and click here for the pediatrics section of About.com