Here’s the story (the long version, of course): I ordered a dress from J.Crew that was on sale in a larger size than I am, so of course I bought it. I decided in a quick-witted moment that I was going to alter the dress myself with my new sewing machine (this is the present you ask for when you turn 22) so I laid out everything I needed on my bedroom floor and started working. I had just finished riding Sully, so I had quickly changed in to house shorts and a tshirt, with no undershirt.. if you get my drift… then I heard a “bzzzz”…..”bzzzzzzzzzzzz”….. thinking it was a silly barn fly I had brought in with my funk (hey- horses, sweat, dirt- it’s a great life) I ignored it until I heard TWO of them. Then, I remembered the bees. Oh the bees. I glance up at the ceiling fan, there’s one. Glance over at the window, another. So of course I jump up, run out of my room screaming like a 10-year-old, and slam my door. Mom had to call the bee man. On the phone with dad, it was definitely an “I TOLD YOU SO” moment. And of course, waiting for the bee man I had to find an undershirt to avoid presenting my frightened ego as funky AND “skivvy-less.”