I grew up in a house where we had a lot of fruit trees. We had these pear trees that lined our driveway, and the fruit would drop and the cars would crush the pears and it was a bee bonanza! One day I was playing ball and it rolled into this mass of crushed fruit. I went chasing after the ball, and the next thing I knew a couple of bees had flown up my shorts. I froze. I was stung repeatedly, and I had to be rescued by an older friend of my parents. I was about six years old at the time, and I was screaming bloody murder. I only started to calm down after my mom told me that my rescuer had gotten stung inside his ear. Not sure how many times I got stung, but I had to lie down for awhile. Tried to stay away from those friggin pears from then on.