When the Bees Go, We're All Buggered

My daughter gets stung weekly and still told me to write this. My daughter, Jennifer, hates bees, wasps and anything that might sting her. I don't blame her. She's a magnet for them. They'll ignore everybody else present and make a beeline (see what I did there?) straight for her. She'll start waving her arms about and jumping around, inevitably hitting one, which will immediately retaliate and do what bees do. Of course she doesn't really hate bees, she just hates getting stung by them. I love them, but then I've only been stung once in my life, and that was a wasp, so it's easy for me to be generous. Jennifer says she gets stung once a week and claims to be the only person ever stung on the soles of her feet and armpits. Not once but twice. I've stopped asking how. Jenny (who hates me calling her Jenny, by the way) is very clever, which she obviously gets from her mother. She works as Social Media Strategist for MUSE, the science museum in Trento, and to say I'm proud of her would…