Wasps wage one last war before retreating for winter
As the temperatures begin to settle down and fall makes her debut, I welcome her with open arms.
I wish I could run outside and give Mother Nature a giant bear hug.
The fall season to me is a time of outside fun with cool temperatures. It’s an afternoon of football and tailgating food with friends and family. It’s candles with pumpkin and spice scents. It’s colorful potted mums on front porches.
But most importantly, my most dreaded enemy begins its hibernation until the next summer season.
The horrible, aggravating, spiteful wasp will tip its hat to the world and make its cowardly exit from my world.
I have written several columns in the past about my personal war against wasps. Many readers have even contacted me with solutions to get rid of the pesky insects from my home.
We have tried everything in the Patterson home, but it seems like we have a wasp killing daily during the summer season.
The wasps must have shelter in our attic or through our vents because I kill about five a day. I have actually seen them fly out of my vents, right towards me.
And I swear I have spent over $100 on wasp spray because I am too chicken to get to close to them. I will spray them in the kitchen while I am standing in my living room.
We had to take the kids for a Sunday drive one time because I fogged the house out with poison trying to kill just one wasp.
And my husband Jason shares my feelings toward the evil creatures. He’s just more aggressive in his attack. He sits and waits outside on the porch to spray an unsuspecting wasp nest. I have watched him from the window before. He will slide over the hood of his truck, spray a nest and then roll behind his boat to prepare for his second attack.
But as I stick my tongue out to the loner wasps who are making their way to their “safe zone” for the fall season, I must admit that I was attacked this week.
It’s almost as if this wasp was determined to give me a final farewell with kamikaze effort in our home.
I was taking James his supper plate the other night. Balancing a plate of corn dogs and strawberries (I know it’s an odd combination) and a cup of milk, I made my way towards him.
And then I felt it. A powerful sting on my right leg.
“Something just bit me,” I shouted, hitting my leg with my free arm.
Whatever was up my pants leg just got more angry because then I felt another stink, not once, but two more times.
I flung the supper plate on the floor. The milk cup almost took out a window.
I began hitting my pant leg and running towards the bedroom, yanking my belt off my pants.
Jason comes running out of the kitchen, totally clueless about the spectacle unfolding before his very eyes.
His son stood confused among smashed corndogs and splattered strawberries. His wife was kicking her pants off, waving her arms around, and screaming towards the bathroom.
When Jason finally made it to our bathroom, I was laid out on the floor. My pants were shoved by the door, as I sat in my underwear with my right swollen leg getting larger by the minute.
“Something bit me,” I yelled.
Jason immediately started searching my pants to see if it was a spider.
“I see what it was,” he said, holding the pant leg up.
A neon red wasp was sitting and waiting for his next victim. Jason immediately killed it with such passion that I was reminded of a war film.
I took some medicine and put on my pajamas. My leg was swelling up and was itching pretty bad, but I survived the sneak attack.
“How did it get up your pants leg,” Jason asked, still confused by the scene that just unfolded.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I hate those things. It’s like they are out to get me.”
As I made my way to my recliner, bruised and recovering from battle, James made his way over to me.
My young son must be worried about me. He has come to give me a hug or to tell me it will all be better.
“Momma,” he said, looking up. “You dropped my strawberries, and you need to come pick them up.”
My face dropped and I issued the “Momma” look. He quickly made his way out of the room to pick up his own strawberries.
I sat in my chair next to the window, looking outside at the cool wind pick up a few leaves.
As I welcomed fall silently, I noticed a wasp sitting on the edge of my porch. It looked as if he was watching me. And then he flew away, perhaps deciding it’s best to live to fight another day.
He must know about what happened in here. I bet they are planning their second wave for the summer season.
Until we meet again. Hopefully I will be ready.