Wednesday, August 06, 2008

Wasp 1, Me 0 (zero)

Monday night, late at night, I went out to the garage for something. I was in my nightgown and flip flops. There is a foyer between my back door and a door to the garage with open doorways and windows with slanted built in shutter-like wood. In other words, it’s an open area, open to creepy crawly things and flying things.

As I’m walking to the back door I see a big black wasp sitting on the corner of the window pane on my back door. I am terrified of bees and wasps.

I back tracked immediately and called out to my husband. Of course he couldn’t hear me in the living room, so I went into the back yard to the windows of the dining room and knocked and waved until I got his attention. He looked up and saw me and walked over to the kitchen.

“What?” he asked.

“There’s a wasp on the back door.”

He peeked out the door and looked at the wasp and then proceeded to slam the door. His idea was to make the wasp fly away, but when I saw the wasp fly I panicked. I thought it was coming towards me.

I turned and high-tailed it, only I didn’t get very far. So I guess it's not accurate to say I "high-tailed" it.

Instead I stumbled on my flip flops and almost fell. I stumbled three times, hitting myself each time hard and breaking my fall.

First I hit myself on the left shoulder, next I slammed and peeled the skin on my forearm on a wooden chair, and finally I smashed my fingers into the garage door. I was in so much pain and in the instant that all this happened; I didn’t even realize what exactly what had happened to me.

“What was that all about?!” my husband yelled out opening the door in concern. But he was also laughing really hard. (yeah, real concerned)

“Why did you do that to me?” I cried from the back yard.

“I was trying to make the wasp fly away!” he said.

“But it came right towards me!”

“It didn’t even get close to you,” he said.

“Well I thought it did.”

“What was that you were doing?” he asked.


He was laughing so hard as he got the wasp spray and started to kill the wasp.

“I’m sorry you’re in pain, but I wish you could have seen yourself. You were so funny!”

“I’m going around to the front door!” I called out in pain.

Later my husband said to me, “You know, I think you would have been better off getting stung by that wasp. You caused yourself a lot more pain falling.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe that wasp wasn’t even worth all that drama. It just kicked my butt.

1 comment:

Moose said...

I laughed so hard that it took me about 5 minutes to recuperate... in order to read your story to the familia over here.