(Ok. So, I'm allergic to bee venom. My father is deadly allergic at this point. I don't think I'd die but it certainly wouldn't be fun and might (MIGHT) need a run to the hospital.)
Big frickin' wasp. Allergic lass. What's a girl to do? Eeek at her man who is at work a mile away. The wasp is frantic to get out and is bashing its head against the skylight right above my head. There is no way on earth I'm going to be able to continue working and I'm working on some of my Amazon g
[We interrupt this narrative due to the sounds of loud angry buzzing, frightened squeals and a hero dealing with the monster.]
*ahem* Like I was saying, I was actually working on a paying gig and needed to concentrate which wasn't going to happen with an angry wasp over my head. I called Jeff and long story short, he came over to kill the beast...
... which disappeared into the edge of the skylight within 3 minutes of him arriving.
Still, he tried to flush it out but nothing doing. I knew... KNEW... that if he left, a really angry wasp would return and I would be a freak again. So, my honey volunteered to work from my house since all his meetings were cancelled. If nothing else, I knew that would make me feel better.
Now, I thought this would be the end of the story. I would work on my Amazon stuff and he would work on his work stuff. And I would quietly feel dumb because I am terrified of wasps. But, not five minutes later, a familiar but now VERY FRICKIN' ANGRY wasp re-emerged from the wherever it was and was, as Cherie once said, ready to carpe the fuck out of that diam.
Cue me shrieking "I knew it! I knew it! I'm locking myself in the backroom!"
Cue Jeff grabbing the broom and shouting, "Just go, love, go!"
Cue actual sounds of battle and a victory cry on the part of my man!
When I peeked out of the backroom, Jeff flushed the wasp carcass down the toilet and admitted that he broke my broom in the midst of the battle.
I consider that a worthy sacrifice.