It’s only April and with the wonderful weather out there it was inevitable that we would soon been hearing that unmistakeable and threatening buzzing sound that at first is almost inaudible but within seconds, amplifies to a deafening roar. I really hate wasps. If there’s been two things that I’ve found easy to write about over the years on this blog, poker is surely one of them and my incessant hatred of wasps is not lagging too far behind.
Last year, it wasn’t until the dying days of April until I first spotted (and ran away from) a wasp. Now, not even half way through the month, I already find myself walking (often running) around the house armed with whatever aerosol spray that is within arms reach. As nice as it is to see the sun shining at this time of the year, I really hate the idea of being paralysed with fear at the sight of every fly for the next 4 months.
Just yesterday I was innocently brushing my teeth when I noticed a wasp terrorising my windowsill. Within seconds it had negotiated its way into the bathroom and was now in the same room as me! I bolted out the door, leaving towels, toothpaste and hopefully the wasp in my wake. I didn’t want to be bullied into swallowing my toothpaste so I grabbed the first two cans that I saw. Armed with Boots Super Shoe Deodorant in one hand and Lynx Twist in the other, I slowly and methodically edged my way back towards that creaking and intimidating looking bathroom door.
I silently tried to push the door open so as not to give the wasp advance warning of what was going to happen. With the door slightly ajar, I sprayed both cans in the immediate vicinity thinking he might have been lying in wait for me. Having not heard a frenzy of buzzing, I concluded that he must have been biding his time elsewhere in the room. I started walking through the cloud of toxic aerosol fumes, struggling with every quivering breath not to start choking. I spotted something ugly moving above the shower, trying to get in through the overflow pipe into the attic. It was a big wasp. What if it was a queen wasp? I could not live in the house with the possibility of a wasps nest a mere 10ft above my head! I leant in towards the shower, as much as my petrified self would allow me to, raised the two cans, and sprayed with such determination to see that wasp drop to the floor.
It had other ideas.
It swooped into action and made a beeline for my face in an obvious attempt to kill me. I kept my trusty shoe deodorant trained on it and it aborted a few inches away from my face. My tiny bathroom was now home to a thick cloud of deodorants and it was increasingly difficult to breath. I turned, ran and slammed the door behind me and waited. The breeze from the open window started to open the door ever so slightly and I caught sight of my foe on the ground. I went in for a closer look. It was still alive. Recommence spraying.
Once again the wasp had other plans but this time flew straight past me and up towards the skylight and out of reach of my weapons. I ran downstairs and fumbled through one of the cabinets before I found Mr Sheen which I know to have a far better spraying distance than the two cans in my head (many years of over-dramatic wasp killing has thought me this). I tore back upstairs. He was gone!
He could still be out there. I didn’t sleep a wink last night as a result.
I really hate wasps.