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.
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…