Church & bees

I remember the old wooden Baptist Church. Didn’t have air conditiong. Everyone would try to sit next to a window, and use these little fans from the Kyker Funeral Home to try and stay cool in the summer. The Sunday School classes and bathrooms where in the basement. You had to go out the front door of the church, walk down the side of it and at the other end was the basement door.
Well, I always sat on the back row, cause I was the last one in and the first one out. One spring morning I caught the preacher not lookin, and I slipped out the front door. The window’s where close to the ground, and always had an arm resting on the sill. So I was duckwalkin down the side of the church trying to stay under the windows, so I didn’t git busted. I made it about half way and was right under this window that had this big flabby arm hanging out of it, when I stepped on a yellow jackets nest. Hala lu ya! I stood up, let out a bloodcurling scream, and took off running for the front door. Of course the service was put on hold, and the whole congregation met me at the front steps and I was still hoppin. They was in my shirt, my britches, you name it. The took all my clothes off of me right there in front of God and everybody. Had to go to the emergency room and get some ephrine shots.
I was pretty cautious about skippin church service after that. I was a little feller, but I remember I was embarrassed about it the next time I saw those folks. Preacher reassured me tho, so I survived.