great black wasp

There was a great black wasp in my house. Of course ten minutes ago I could not have told you that it was a great black wasp. But as I was watching him fly across my bedroom, land on my bedside table, the leg of the table (actually a stool), and then the floor, I carefully contemplated his size and shape and color. Then the mighty, marvelous internet provided me pictures and descriptions, and this was a great black wasp. 

I say was because he is now dead, killed ever so carefully with a flip flop (managed to save the The Garden of Good and Evil from this task) and he is now flushed down the toilet. You see, I do not believe in putting stinging things in trash cans. I also do not believe in simply letting them sit in my toilet bowl because the completely irrational part of my brain says that he might come back to life. And, if he came back to life, he could sting my ass. Literally. I like to think of myself as a fairly rational person, but flying creatures that sting steal my rational brain and I have to force myself to think, to process, and to act. All of this stems from memories of the extreme size to which stung body parts of mine will painfully swell complements of such creatures placing their stinger in my skin. I do not want that. Not again. Not ever. 

My rational brain is returning and I wonder if this is worth posting. But then, maybe you have something that makes your rational brain disappear and you will enjoy knowing you are not alone. 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *