Princesses

Once, during an Indian Princess camping trip, Eldest drank a bee. 

 

That is, she was drinking a Dr. Pepper (what else is there in Texas, right?) from a can and learnt the hard way that the bee was sharing the sweet nectar from Jerusalem on the Brazos.

The bee stung her on the tongue, and Eldest immediately spewed a stream of dp and bee across the full length of the picnic table into the face of a fellow princess. 

The receiving princess was startled at first, but in the resilient spirit of an eleven year old girl and to the complete delight of her companions, she returned fire by spewing a similar stream back at Eldest. 

But, her aim was not true. She missed Eldest and hit instead one of the fathers. 

One thing led to another, and you can imagine the resulting bedlam. 

Seven princesses from every corner of the picnic table screaming and spewing soft drink at each other--

Seven fathers acting out the "duck and cover" routine we all practised so well in school in the event the "Russians [were] coming." 

And for the girls, spewing led to shaking and spraying, and then, ultimately to at least one full immersion baptism using the melted contents of the ice chest. By the end of the engagement, everyone was fully doused and laughing uncontrollably. 
 

Once order was restored, the Princesses dutifully cleaned the picnic table and we all watched Eldest for an allergic reaction, just in case. Imagine, if you will, Eldest sitting on a freshly scrubbed, if not slightly damp picnic table surrounded by the girls and dads giving her the ole stink eye.  It was a real stare-down, but other than the hyperactivity that automatically arises when told to sit still, she had no reaction and in the end was absolutely fine.  But to this day, she will not drink dp from a can.
 

And yes, the bee survived (I think he said something about moving to St. Paul or even Cincinnati).