Dirt Daubers

What started as a simple backyard ballgame turned into an all-out aerial assault after one perfect swing clanged off an old metal fence post—home to a very angry swarm of dirt daubers. Dennis ran. I hesitated. Bad call. Ten seconds later, I was shirtless, screaming, and getting lit up like a Fourth of July sparkler. The aftermath involved a makeshift ER, a can of Prince Albert tobacco, and a peanut gallery of laughing neighborhood boys. And when the swelling finally went down… I brought the kerosene.