I dare you!

I'm sure that as a kid or a teenager you heard those words.

'I DARE YOU'

 Even more telling was if you accepted the challenge..... or not!

When I was 7 and a half my friend Barbara Ann shrieked, 'I dare you............no, I double dare you!' She had failed a test of courage and she had risen to the bait and dared me back.

The dare was a huge test as to whether or not I had the 'guts' to fling the ball and miss to a chorus of scornful laughter, or hit the target and live to rue that skill. Talk about being caught on the horns of a great dilemma! As a kid who grew up loving words I knew exactly how dangerous that choice was.

Looking at the small group of scrawny kids in my back yard, all mocking me I had little choice. I rose to the challenge...........

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The big ball was slightly squishy under my nervous finger tips. My heart was hammering in my bony chest. I looked up at the 'bull's eye' and sweat moistened my upper lip. My breathing was coming in short painful gasps. My legs were trembling with the adrenalin I was summoning for the fastest dash I needed to make in about 10 seconds................

WASPS............hundreds of them hanging in a seething mass of tiny lethal bodies under the eave of the rear garage wall. They were very active having swarmed into the largely empty garage a few days before.

We kids were as fascinated by them as a cat watching a mouse. We were for some insane reason tempted to 'play chicken' with them and had been taunting one another to ACTION every afternoon after school.

Barbara Ann hitched her dress into the elastic of her 'bloomers' to give room for her long legs to move as fast as she possibly could. 

The  'ninny'  kids had scattered sensing real danger. The yard was ominously silent.

The tension built up to FEVER pitch and I hurled the ball as hard as I could and unfortunately as fate sometimes dictates, I hit my target.

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 The immediate terrifying ROAR OF A GAZILLION WINGS spurred us on  as swift as possible to the back veranda that was gauzed in as protection against flies usually. Now it was our only hope against what was turning out to be a run for our lives. A trip over a root of the old oak tree would have meant hundreds of relentless stings and breathing would most likely have stopped within minutes.

Had we factored in all the very real dangers? 

Of course we hadn't but the noise of total ANGER of the swarm lent us the proverbial wings and not daunted by bits of gravel along the path we streaked up to the house. Sadie, my nanny from years before, having heard our screams had the screen door ajar and as we fell into her soft bosom she slammed it - just in time...........but not quite!

I felt the stab of a red hot iron needle in my neck under the collar of my shirt. My hands flew up to get it off but It simply moved on and STUNG me again.... and again.  I learned that day the hard fact that unlike bees who die when they sting their victim the first time, a wasp goes on and on wrecking vengeance on behalf of hundreds of his thwarted swarm. They were still buzzing furiously against the gauze unable to get at us.

Not daunted for a second, Sadie picked up and rolled a fat newpaper and hit my back hard. It did kill the offending wasp but instead of more stings I was badly winded and bruised by her gesture of goodwill!

So, did I win the dare?

 It was hard to say because although I did in fact throw the ball accurately AND I got through the veranda door in time AND I bore my stings bravely, I did get into serious trouble that evening when I was called in to explain my actions to my beloved dad who I hated to disappoint.

I was truly shamefaced by the incredible risk I had subjected the neighbourhood kids to. After a thorough talking to, he put his arm around me and hugged me to his sweet smelling shirt....."what on earth would i do without you my sweet, brave, ridiculous girl'" he murmured and we smiled. I got the message loud and clear. 

      Do not accept a dare because of bravado and the chance to show off.

      Carefully consider whom else you are endangering and the often serious consequences.

     Then ......rather play marbles or 'house' (or some other boring thing!)

But the twinkle in my dad's eye told me that he had accepted many a dare with dire results in his time and in my next post I will share one that could have blown his head off!