Attack of the Bumblebee

Nose pressed eagerly against the glass, I watched enchanted as the shiny white paint was brushed onto the deck railing.

I tugged at the glass door, and stepped out in my bare feet.

"Can I help, dad, please?"

"No, honey, not this time, you'd only be in the way. I don't want you to come out here now."

Disappointed, I returned inside. Once there, I looked back out and saw that my brother was out there. It didn't seem fair.

To understand that, you have to realize that my brother and I are only a year apart. Also, that I had always considered myself completely equal with him. And yet, occasionally, evidence that he could be allowed privileges that I was not would shock my small world.

It was a beautiful sunny day, and the deck was a regular pathway to the green expanse of grass beyond. It wasn't the reason, but it was a reason to be tempted to disobedience. From the context, I knew Dad had only forbidden the deck, and yet, how could he?

"Surely,' I thought, "Dad had only meant that I couldn't stand on the part he was working on. It would be perfectly fine just to watch him from the other part of the deck. He hadn't said I couldn't watch! If I got tired, I could cross the deck and play in the grass."

I returned to the glass door and looked out again. The activity outside was fascinating and irresistible.

Opening the door again, silently, cautiously, I stepped out again. I knew fully that I was being disobedient, but couldn't I just watch? I hadn't taken ten steps when I cried out in pain. A bee had stung me on the heel.

Dad turned around and saw me. He told me to go inside to Mom for the bee sting, and then said quietly, "I told you to stay off the deck."

I knew without his words that the bee sting was a direct consequence of my disobedience.