With H away, while Little E was sick in bed. and before I had to pick up Sweetheart G from school, I put my hands in the earth, tilled the soil, and weeded the yard. With knees on the grass and hands clearing an edge, I felt a prick to my palm. Pulling my hand from the ground, I found I had been stung by the exoskeleton of a bee. As fragile as a dry leaf, the insect's remains still managed to strike out one last time and found me. Once the stinger was removed, I presented the corpse to a delighted Little E.