I hate wasps.

A brief diversion from the Alaska chronicles –

I was cooking dinner today – stop laughing, I do do that occasionally – when I realized I had company in my kitchen. An ugly, mean and nasty yellow jacket. Now, I get that he was just going about his waspy business, doing whatever the hell it is wasps do by way of employment, but he was not welcome to do it in my kitchen! So when he landed on my counter, I was ready for him with a rolled up newspaper. THWACK! I was sure I’d hit him, but there was no dead wasp to be found. Nor was there an infuriated live wasp zooming around my kitchen. Ok, I could deal with this – just watch and not step on a half dead angry wasp….

So I carried on making dinner, with one eye on the floor.

All went well. Till I stepped on the wasp. You knew that was coming, didn’t you. Little bugger got himself wedged between my first two toes and proceeded to expend his dying energy stinging the side of my toe! I shrieked, shook my foot violently, sent the wasp flying – but at least I retained enough clarity of thought to NOT step on him! He’s dead now, squashed in a paper towel in the garbage. The toe was doctored with aloe stuff, and I returned to cooking dinner – albeit with a good number of muttered epithets about %#$^ wasps.

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