WASP
How come no one ever taught me the proper level of fear a man should have for wasps?
I was doing pull-ups on the swing set in the backyard when I saw, not three inches from my nose, a wasp crawl out of a hole in the swing set. I dropped from the bar and watched curiously as three more wasps crawled out. A sudden searing pain in my right index finger ripped me from my contemplative mood. “Ow, ow, ow!” One of them had dive-bombed me, and it really hurt! I glared at the offending wasp and, pay attention here, took three quick steps away from the swingset. Three.
Now that I was an obviously safe five feet away all sense of urgency faded. I looked at my swollen finger and then glanced back at the swing set to see what those crazy wasps were up to now. What they were up to was swarming and plotting my death. Glancing at my throbbing finger I decided it was time to jog away. Jog.
Pow! Pow! It felt like someone was shooting BBs at my calf. Two more stings, and wasps everywhere. I was wearing my iPod, and the fact that the wasp attack was choreographed to “Arms and Danger” by The Promise Ring made the whole thing incredibly surreal. “We’re all arms and dangerous, we’re almost famous for it…” Sting! Sting! I was laughing hysterically now, but I began to run in ernest, shouting, “I will be back wasps! I will be back!”
They did not show the proper level of fear wasps should have for man.
I jumped in the car and went straight to the store, where I bought wasp killer. The stuff sprays twenty feet, but that is a feature for wimps. I do my wasp killing face to ugly wasp-face.
I ran back into the yard armed with the wasp killer and the garden hose (I don’t know, the hose seemed like a good thing to have). I charged, and emptied the bottle into the nest. Intrigued by the spray’s claim to “kill on contact”, I kicked the swing set and as the last surviving wasps flew out, I shot them right out of the air.
The wasp rebellion has been put down. The yard is mine again.
I have to admit the stings were strangely invigorating. They tore me out of my suburban complacency like some sort of backyard insect fight club.
Update: My father claims he did teach me to fear wasps.
Hmm – the fact that this story is dated for tomorrow leaves my uneasy about the purported events that may, or may not, have taken place.
Please leave future event publishing to the psychic professionals of psychicdustbunnies
Hah, thanks for catching that. I am using a beta version of ecto to post. It is really cool, I wonder if that was a beta bug?
Ok, between you and my girlfriend, I don’t know what’s coming to this crazy world.
Don’t they teach people to be afraid of any insect which flies and is yellow anymore? Where I come from, that is lesson #1.
The first time I was stung, I was playing in the sprinklers oh a hot august day. Is there anytime you a child is more vulnerable than when playing in the sprinklers?
I remember it so clearly: I had just completed a perfect olley-oop royale roundhouse around the spraying water, and was moving across the sidewalk to the towel. I saw it a moment too late, as my foot was already coming down. Stupid insect. Knowing he was going to die, but taking me out anyway. That’s what’s wrong with this world.
The second time was even worse. Nobody will believe this, but I tell you — this is why I hate bees.
I’m driving down the road with my dad in our truck. Windows open. Another perfect so-cal day. A wasp flew in the window (well, maybe he was sucked in) ran right into my eye – and had the presense of mind to sting me! Do these stupid things sting on contact or what? We were doing like 50 miles an hour!
So yeah. I hate bees, wasps, all of ’em.
Susan, on the other hand, takes the zen approach. She can sit there and calmly enjoy her sandwich while they buzz around her. Meanwhile I hyperventilate in the car nearby.
I have had to neutralize two large wasps’ nests this summer on my patio. I do have proper fear for them, so I got my hose, sprayed them down to the ground, then stomped the nest flat. I was able to kill most of the wasps, but a few evaded my insecticidial rage. I quickly, ran inside, and declared the patio off limits for two days (i’m a wimp). I didn’t get stung though, and I have no known wasp infestations. On a side note, my brother road tripped to Stanford for the football game – which was awful – the campus was beautiful though enormous – at least 4 times the size of all BYU campus land (including the sheep ranch) My brother and I played catch on one of the many lawns, and I noticed a large number of wasps, not honey bee’s flying around lawn. Needless to say, we went an found a grassless lot to play catch.
Ah, wasps. On my sixteenth birthday, just before I was to go out with some friends, it was requested that I retrieve a two-by-twelve from the scaffolding in the sideyard. I climbed up and had started to walk across the scaffolding when I noticed a sharp pain on my ankles; a small swarm of wasps was partying on my socks. I didn’t do any of this three-steps-back/jog/run thing, I sprinted off the end of the scaffolding and didn’t stop until I had the house between me and them. Punks.
I think it amusing that you a clear WASP, have been repeatly attacked by wasps . . . . ok it’s not really amusing at all.
I think that you would have been more afraid if you were in a less macho state of mind. With blood pulsing through your muscles you undoubtedly believed that you could take these wasps on. You only jogged away because your self image was at stake. Your three steps back was the most you could risk without completely subverting the macho pull-up ideal. It was important to maintain that Ideal and I’m glad you did. You undoubtedly left out the glorious aura you felt as you casually jogged away from the furious wasps, allowing the Rock to add to the experience. Good work.
Thank god I wasn’t yet drinking my coffee. It would have squirted out of my nose.
As for your wrong date-stamp, check if you have the timeoffset on in the blog settings panel. Next time you post, have the ecto console open and show me the contents if the date’s wrong again.
My daughter was stung my a wasp tonight. Spooky.
Don’t you know that those metal swing-sets are like wasp-meccas? Good grief, what kind of irresponsible swing-set-owner are you?!
You must spray that foam insulation stuff in the ends of the poles and in all holes and/or possible wasp entryways BEFORE the weather gets warm enough for them to get movin’, or AFTER they’ve all died of hypothermia. Squirt the old hives out with a high-powered sprinkler nozzle, let the swing-set dry, and then fill every darn crack in that baby.
The swingset came with the house. Not having owned a swingset before I didn’t realize the errors I had inherited.
I fought the wasps again last week with the help of two brothers-in-law (I could say Brother-in-laws, but this makes it sound like we are crime-fighters). We killed them all and then I made an executive decision.
We tore the wasp infested swingset down. I am building Reese a nice sandbox instead :)
OK, i am going to get a new one too, the old one was really worn out in additon to wasp-infested.