Well...OK. Though this little tale isn't nearly as embarrassing nor foolish as some of the childish stunts my same age cousin and I pulled back then.
We were about 9 years old, and like kids of the late 50s were fond of doing. We were playing army of some sort. So my Dad comes in from work and hands me a really, really HUGE package of Black Cat Firecrackers. (You know this isn't going to end well...don't you.)
So my cousin Carson and I tore into them and very quickly tired of just lighting and throwing them. You see what's coming, right?
Yep, that's it. We started throwing them at each other. But that just really wasn't satisfying enough. Not enough, make-believe blood, guts and gore for us.
Being all American red-blooded little soldiers. It degraded quickly thereafter.
We hit upon the idea of making hand grenades to toss. You know just for fun. Sure.
We made I don't know how many mud grenades, used a stick to make a hole in them, and set them out to dry. But as it was late, we had to postpone the war until the next day.
Come morning, Carson and I snuck out with a cigarette each and a bunch of the aforementioned firecrackers.
We each had a flour sack. Some of you older geezers remember those I guess. Sat down and put a firecracker in each one, and loaded up our flour sacks. Then proceeded to light the cigs and commence trying to kill each other.
Dried mud balls didn't react quite how we thought they would, especially after all that time to harden. They did "explode" to a degree. Mostly just into small, shrapnel-like pieces.
But being to energetic and foolish to stop, we ran around the trees throwing them. all the while trying to find cover so as not to get hit too much.
Now...remember that little shed from the start of this tale? That's right. That one.
I proceeded to run inside and hide, throwing those dried mud grenades thru the open side of the shed.
Well, those hornets didn't like the noise and pieces of dirt hitting the walls. A few started buzzing around and checking out the situation.
About that time...Carson did a double up on me. Threw 2 inside. And of course the hit near that nest, and went off.
That set off the whole nest, I think. I ran. They flew out with me.
I ran for Carson, wanting to share the fun. lol
We both got stung several times before getting into the house, where we spent most of the day.
Now wasn't that long version better than just saying I got stung while in the shed? lol