GP seems to have more than his share of odd and freaky accidents, most of them resulting in only minor injuries, thank heavens. He came inside and said, "Guess what happened."
I said, "How did you hurt yourself this time?" with the big one in mind, although I could see that he was in one piece and not obviously bleeding.
Apparently, the bee was thirsty and was attracted to the soda can by the sweet smell and decided to have a swig, too.
"Take a Benadryl," says I.
"No, I don't like taking medicine," says he.
Before long, GP was back in the house with a bulbous bottom lip. Of course! I gave him a short anatomy lesson, telling him that the lips were not far from the throat (like the knee bone is connected to the thigh bone), and that he would not want his throat swollen so he couldn't breathe, and that I would rather avoid a trip to the ER. He took the Benadryl. About a half hour later, I suggested he take another, which he did. By the evening, the swelling had gone down quite a bit.
It's not easy being right all the time when dealing with a stubborn man.
