Nagging

"Do you think we should be doing this?" I asked my husband. A nervous feeling was tugging at my heart.

"Why not?" He asked unconcerned.

Feeling squashed.

We pulled off the exit and started looking for a park.

"Maybe we should just drive home." I asked. The nagging feeling was tugging at the back of my stomach. It was becoming more insistent.

We parked. Jack and John got out. I stayed in the car with Thomas. Who was fast asleep in his carseat. I scribbled the menu for the next week on a piece of scrap paper. It calmed me.

"Everything is fine. Look how cute this park is! It even has a tire swing!" I told myself.

Thomas stirred. Then howled. "Where the heck am I?" He seemed to say.

I unloaded him. I pressed my lips to his sweaty forehead to calm him. I grabbed my purse and walked over to my husband. Jack and Thomas played and played. I relaxed. I climed the precariously high slide behind my firstborn. The wind wooshed my hair as I sailed down. "This is living!" I thought with delight.

John and I sat side by side on the swings. We watched the boys in the fading light.

"John, I feel anxious. We should leave."

"Babe, we are fine."

When we finally did leave. The boys were happy. Thomas had found the perfect stick and was hitting everything in sight. Jack picked one up too.

I started walking back to the car. Jack was just a few feet behind me. John and Thomas lingered.

Then, the scream. Piercing. Bone chilling. "MOMMMMMMYYYYYY!!! OWWWWW! HELP!" They were surrounding him. Hundreds of stinging bees.

"Run to me!" I yelled. Jack came. I took the book that I had taken from John and swatted the bees off Jack's body. Hitting the few remaining ones with my hands.

John found another one when we were almost at the car. Stinging Jack underneath his shirt.

We stripped him down. Anxious and afraid. Six stings. A miracle considering the number of bees around him.