“Ugh! Stupid bees go away!” I said while swatting rapidly in the air. “Rachel, for the millionth time, you are going to get stung.,” said my Dad with an annoyed tone in his voice. I, thinking I knew it all, kept swatting away. The incessant buzzing of the bees grew louder and louder and I became more annoyed by the second. “They won’t go away!” I protested to no one in particular. “I’m four years old, I’m a big girl. I can handle myself. My daddy does not know what he is talking about.” I crossed my arms across my colorful, glitter-covered shirt and had a look of determination on my face. I would kill the bees if it was the last thing I did. Crouching down so that my eyes were the same level as the picnic table, I began to plan my genius way of exterminating the bees. My mother turned to me and said, “Why don’t you just put a lid over your lemonade? Then they would go away.” I stubbornly argued, “No, then they are still alive. I want them dead.” I hated bumblebees with a strong, burning passion. But most of all, I wanted to prove to my parents that I do not have to be obedient because I know what I’m doing. “How dare they get the nerve to fly into my lemonade,” I thought to myself. Killing the bees and proving my parents wrong were the most important things in the world and I refused to leave until they were exterminated by me. Five long, dragging minutes passed and my determination continue to build. The climax had been hit. These bees were going down. I spotted a piece of paper and the smile of an evil genius spread across my face. My mom must have read my mind, because she tried to stop me. “Leave them alone or else you are going to get stung!” Being my stubborn self, I ignored her and continued to carry out my brilliant idea. I leaped off the bench in the most graceful manner and happily skipped across the hot concrete pavement to the stack of newly printed Sea-World park maps. My delicate hand thumped down across the colorful papers and I proceeded to grab ten. The more the merrier! With a big, toothy smile on my freckly face I made my way back to the wooden picnic table. Watching for splinters, I climbed back up. I had a mission. My parents continued to plea for me to stop, but their words just turned into background noise for me. With a handful of maps, I began to swat. The bees scattered in all directions like little missiles. I had done my job, so I thought. “Rachel, why on earth did you do that? Now they are mad.” Said my Dad with a concerned tone in his voice. I answered him, “It is necessary.” He rolled his eyes and replied, “You are going to get stung and then regret it.” I thought about what he was saying, but quickly released the thought. I did not need to be obedient, and I knew just what I was doing. I stared at my bumblebee-infested lemonade and felt the adrenaline rush through my body. I lifted my hands and began to rapidly swat. Who needs paper? All of a sudden, I let out a loud shriek of pain. I had been stung. My entire body began to shake with the pain and disbelief I was experiencing and I felt nauseous. My parents looked at me with an “I told you so” look on their face but also with one of concern. I felt frozen, and not only that embarrassed. I began to cry and hyperventilate. My Dad hopped out of his seat and quickly scooped me up into his loving arms. He hurried me over to the nurses’ station and laid me on silver rimmed, paper lined table. Being the dramatic child I was, I thought I would surely die. “You can have my Barbie dolls and my room,” I told my brother. “You will not die, ”said the nurse with a laugh. “Did you learn your lesson? ”Said my Dad. I slowly raised my eyes to meet his and mumbled, “Yes sir, I did.” I was embarrassed and hated admitting that I was wrong, but I evidently was. At the time it just seemed like my parents were just trying to ruin my fun. WRONG! They knew what was going to happen and they were right. I thought to myself, “if only I had listened; I wouldn’t be in this painful situation.”The nurse gave me medicine to rub on my finger and it helped with the pain, but I still felt nauseous. I barely could walk in a straight line, yet I managed to shuffle over to the glass clinic door and push it open. The light outside was blinding and I closed my eyes and stood there. “Are you okay?” said a voice that was familiar to me. I sat down in the middle of the sun-soaked pavement and opened my eyes to see my mother’s concerned face. “Yes ma’am. I am sorry I did not listen to you and Daddy.” She walked to where I had sat and plopped down beside me. She put one of her delicate, loving hands on my back and said, “It is ok and I am sure next time you will listen to what I tell you. I know you defiantly learned your lesson.” I nodded my head in agreement and now understood that being obedient to my parents is indeed, important. I sat and thought about my mistakes, but with my four-year-old enthusiasm I hopped up and shouted, “Lets go see the penguins!”