This morning I was mid-yoga workout when my Girl-Child burst in on me with an emergency of epic proportions.

WASP!  In the living room!  We’re all going to die… or at least she thought she would die.  I had to kill it.  NOW!

I’m usually a pacifist.  Non-confrontational.  A lover, not a fighter.  But I was interrupted mid-yoga, I was frustrated with my screaming daughter, the wasp refused to die easily.  Whatever the reason, I went all Rambo.  I unleashed my inner murderous beast while unleashing a half can of wasp spray until that villainous wretch lay still in a pool of chemical warfare.

Then it hit me.

The stench.

I’d filled the whole room with chemical warfare.

I threw open the front and side doors.  I swooped our pet bird out of the area and into a bedroom for safety, then told the kids (and dog) that it was time for outdoor entertainment for a while.

It only took a few hours for the fumes to dissipate and allow us safely back into the living area.

By that time three more wasps had flown in through the open doors.


I wonder what I’ll do tomorrow…



Brandon as Wasp



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