Long ago, I made one of my many bad choices.
I went outside to play, and saw a five-gallon bucket.
There was water in it and a bee on it.
I’d been told bees don’t usually bother you if you don’t bother them, which has since proven to be mostly true, but I was a young boy and it proved impossible not to test such a theory.
I picked a few blades of grass and pushed them toward the bee in an attempt to coax it off of the bucket.
When the bee refused to budge, I decided it should drown.
I grabbed the bee, dunked it and held it there for a few seconds before a sharp pain seared through my hand.
I let go and looked down at my thumb, which throbbed and swelled up around a black stinger.
The lifeless bee floated in the bucket and my thumb hurt like the dickens.
The point of this story is choices have consequences.
Life is a series of choices. Before you make one, I’ve learned it’s a good idea to consider whether the consequences will leave you happy or hurt and holding a giant thumb.
Consequences can also stick with you for years.
It’s been decades, but I still remember the pain of my choice.
I also remember it worked out a whole lot better for me than it did for the bee.