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Yesterday, out on the farm, legs hanging over the back porch, I was telling Dave about this miniature bee that stung the beejeezus out of me while I killed time on a Georgetown nature trail the day before. A few seconds later, the very same type of bee is hovering right near my bare foot and I said, a bit over-excitedly, that's the one, that's the same bee!
Dave did not hesitate. He picked up his bb gun ( a bb gun for every camper, that's our motto at Mt. Prospect Farm), cocked it, aimed, and fired. You can argue 'till you're blue in the face that this may not be something to be proud of, but Dave put a bb right up that bee's b-hole, direct hit.
If you need someone to argue with, I'm here for you.