Growing up, I distinctly remember having beehives in my backyard. My dad was a beekeeper for several years, and I became accustomed to the large wooden hotels that towered in the corner of our yard. Their four-walled homes balanced atop each other and found shade under our fruit-filled grapefruit tree. You would think that being around these temperamental insects would have scared me as a child, but it didn’t. Unfortunately, quite the opposite occurred. I seemed to grow in ignorance as I assumed that they would never hurt me and that their only ability was to produce delicious honey filled combs for which we could season our fry bread with.