White Anglo-Saxon Post
I’ve already talked at great length about the ongoing battle with the ants in my home. (The struggle continues, by the way.)
But there’s another insectoid pest that keeps inexplicably showing up.
“Mornin’. You’re all out of toilet paper.”
Somehow, about once a month, a wasp gets into our bathroom. And this morning it happened to be right after I got out of the shower.
Just as I’d started to dry myself off, the little devil buzzed me. Which caused me to stand up and look around the bathroom with a dim, “what the hell was that?” look on my face. At first I thought it might’ve been the drain or showerhead making noise (I’m not good at mornings, remember?), but then I looked up and saw the dark outline of one Dr. Thorax Von Stinginstuff circling above me.
This in turn prompted one of those weird “hunchback” moves. The one where you know there’s a stinging insect or spider right above you, but you’re not sure which direction you’re supposed to move in order to get away from it, so instead you just duck and wiggle?
After a moment I looked up again and saw it had flown over to the corner of the bathroom where it was was buzzing and banging its head against the walls and generally working itself into a waspy frenzy.
Now as I mentioned, I’d just gotten out of the shower. So I was feeling a little exposed at this point. I had no armor to protect me, and no instruments with which to fight said wasp.
Just me and a towel, versus a winged, pointy-butt vermin.
I briefly pondered making a break for it to find some kind of chemical weaponry, but thought better of it once the wasp began to slowly, purposefully, circle the A/C vent.
A move that I interpreted as the Hymenopterous equivalent of assessing the curb appeal on a brand new 4-bedroom custom home. And my initial recoiling, “Gah! Get away from me!” attitude was instantaneously replaced with a steely, “oh hell no you don’t…” calm.
Visions of this thing and its progeny making their way up to Daphne’s room flashed into my mind as I spun the towel around, locker room style, and popped…
And I caught the bastard dead on.
One shot. One kill.
It fell to the floor, twitching, and I quickly threw the towel on it and smooshed with my heel.
At which point I began a victory dance, but a glance over at the mirror reminded me that I was still both naked and wet, and now my towel had wasp bits stuck to it.
So I ceased all celebration and instead picked the carcass up with some toilet paper, rolled the towel up and threw it into the hamper, and continued about my morning…albeit slightly manlier than before.
Okay, that’s it. That’s all I’ve got. Have an awesome weekend and I’ll see you guys next week.