Little Maddie could feel the sting on her skin, right below the bend of her arm. She cried so hard; it broke my heart as I watched her pull on the frilly lace of her sleeve. The wasp had pricked through on a recent scar—first, the trike accident, now this.
I scanned the list of numbers on the fridge and made the call to the doctor. He suggested a couple of tabs of Tylenol and to spread some anti-itch gel on the sting, making sure to remove the stinger first. Naturally, I managed to spill it all over my hands.