Bobby is four years old. Bobby loves honey.
He loves honey on toast. He loves honey on biscuits. He loves honey on apples. He loves honey on cereal. He loves honey on pancakes. He loves honey on waffles. He loves honey on ice cream. He even loves honey on his finger! He loves honey very much.
Bobby does not like bees. He calls them "buzzy bees." When he sees a bee, he says, "Go away, buzzy bee! Go away, bad, bad, bad buzzy bee."
One day Bobby saw a bee. It was yellow and black. It looked soft. Bobby tried to pet the bee.
"Sweet little buzzy bee," Bobby said. "Soft little buzzy bee. . . OUCH!" Bobby yelled. "You bit me." Bobby cried and ran away from the bee. Now Bobby does not like bees.
Today Bobby is going on a trip with his mother and father. They are going to their friends' house. Bobby is excited.
They all get into the car. Bobby's father drives and drives. Finally the car stops. They are at their friends' house.
Bobby jumps out of the car. He looks all around. He sees a house. He sees trees and flowers. He sees a swimming pool. Then he sees some white boxes.
"What are the boxes for?" Bobby asks.
"They are for the bees," his father says.
"Oh, no!" Bobby yells. "I hate buzzy bees. They will bite me!"
Bobby's mother says, "I see our friends. They are by the boxes. Let's go talk to them. She takes Bobby's hand. "Come on, Bobby," she says. "I won't let the bees sting you."
Bobby, his mother, and his father walk over to the boxes.