"Let's go show Daddy how brave you are," I say, to my crying Weston-child.
"Yeah," he says between sobs. We walk down the stairs to where Daddy is working and he shows him his finger that is now covered with a baking soda and water paste.
"What happened, Weston-day?" (That's Daddy's pet name for him.)
"I was tryin' to catch a bee that was on a flower and I caught him but then he stinged me."
"Oh buddy! that's too bad! What did you learn?"
"Well," he says, with tears still in his eyes, "I learned how to catch a bee."
And we probably shouldn't play with bees, too. Right little guy? Right? (It only took his biggest brother eight times before he decided he better be fearful of bees. Let's hope this child is a quicker study.)