Remember when my childhood. My house is adjacent to a small river and mangrove forest, in the forest there is a very large beehive, my mother always remind me not to go to the mangrove forest, except with my father. At that time, I always ignored what my mother said, sometimes I bring a catapult to shoot the nest. The time came when I fired a honeycomb for the next one. When I shoot the honeycomb for the next, on target, even the honeycomb split in two with the slingshot shot, and the bee was furiously chasing me, I ran but bees faster than me and stung in the head of my face and neck, and I kept running to the house while calling my mother, hearing my shouting voice finally my mum and dad came out to protect me from the bee hunt, somehow my father drove him away, I do not know, because I was weak and helpless, I fainted, unconsciously when I opened my eyes already in the hospital with my hands already in the infusion.
That's my life in childhood, and now I really like to take pictures of bees and have to be very careful not to make her angry again.
