This totally makes me sound like a hill billy. But when I was very small, under 3, we lived up at the ranch with my grandfather. We had no electricity up there, its in the mountains. And I would get up in the night and go to the bathroom and often would step on a yellow jacket and it would really hurt. I would scream and then my dad would get up and show me the squashed bee and tell me how the bee came out worse than I did, just look at him! And I would be thinking the bee was not dead enough for what he did to me. It was hot up there and instead of opening windows, we just took them out. I remember being older and staying with my grandpa in the summer and my horse would put its head in the window and nibble my head to wake me up in the morning. Okay, I am a hill billy, no way around it.
The point is I still seldom wear shoes in the house and am always in fear of stepping on bugs that bite or squish bad.
