Here's how it happened.
My wife and I were talking about the new house we're hoping to get and I mentioned a type of screen we could get for the back porch. She said something like, "Oh, not that kind. Our bees'll get stuck in it."
Huh? Our bees?
I laughed and said, "Haw! you're gonna die when you hear this. I thought you said...aw, this is rich...Haw! I thought you said...here it comes...I thought you said...'BEES'. Haw haw, haw!"
She replied dryly: "Yeah. That's what I said...bees. I've wanted to be a beekeeper ever since I was a little kid."
(Groan!) A long discussion ensued during which I was reminded of favors that I owed. The upshot was...you want to see a picture of me a year from now? That's me (above), and all the hapless guests who ignore the warnings and venture out into our backyard.
I forgot to say that my wife wants a goat, too.
We might have to let the goat live inside the house.
How can I kick the poor creature into the backyard when all that carnage is taking place out there?
Have you ever seen a corpse stripped by bees? Well...I haven't either...but I know it must be terrible.