Friday, August 08, 2014

The Dalai Lama wasp
Today F and I were just hanging out on the porch when a wasp came and landed on my chair. I lost my moment to escape and it landed right on my ankle. F told me to be very still. I don't know if I am allergic to wasp stings or not. This buzzy guy reminded me of a Park Slope dad after work. He was exhausted and moving kind of slowly. He ambled lazily all the way up my leg and then made a U-turn and headed back down. When he got to the arch of my foot he settled down to take a nap. His spindly front legs splayed out in front and the back ones pointed back and he rested his itchy little belly right down onto the sensitive part of my foot. Seriously he lay down just like Juno their dog does when she's tired.


I was midway through turning over to get my book when the wasp showed up so my back which was already strained from playing rocking horse with baby Mabel was twisted in the most uncomfortable splayed position that you could imagine. F had my computer on his lap so he looked up on the Internet about how to get wasps off of people. I hope the irony is not lost on you, readers. Anyway, roughly 40 percent of the suggestions seemed like they would only piss off the wasp which was the last thing I wanted to do. The other 60 percent of the suggestions suggested that you stay really, really still. F kept telling me that he would fly away any minute. Even the automatic sprinklers which soaked my leg and my book didn't get this lazy guy to budge.

 TWENTY THREE MINUTES later F and I had devised a plan in which he was going to go bring the electric fan out onto the porch to create an artificial breeze. Just as F got up to get the fan the wasp rolled over onto it's back and slid off my damp calf onto the chair. F told me to slowly move my leg to the right and to dart into the house on my left. I ran into the living room, pulled off my pj pants to make sure that I was wasp-less and ran into the bedroom wearing only my red, Wonder Woman underwear and slammed the door. I practiced some deep breathing exercises, put my jeans on, and came back out to find a worried Stephen in the kitchen who had come back in the meantime and was wondering what all the yelling had been about.


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