STUNG!!!

I’ve been stung!!! The first sting occurred on Wednesday, early evening. I was walking up the veranda steps when—Pow!!!! Something got me in the heel, just above my sandal strap. A less truthful person would report my having said, “Oh my, that hurts.” The second sting happened about an hour later, as I walked, barefoot, (the sandal strap was bothering my swollen ankle) across that same veranda. That one hit the bottom of the unstung foot. Was it a wasp? No, It was a rose briar, attached to a clump of rose leaves. The tireless wind had plucked them from the nearby rose bush. Even a less truthful person wouldn’t credibly be able to report that I said, “Oh my, that hurts.” The third sting struck on Thursday, on the arm just above my watch strap. That one was definitely a wasp. Shamelessly, he headed off to join his house mates, who had taken up residence in the safe haven under the broad front steps. “I’ve been stung!!” I wailed at Mark. And then, to add emphasis, “I’ve been stung twice!” Mark has a proven track record in wasp warriorship. Was it only last weekend that he sprayed a line of killler foam into a wasp home in the siding behind his deck? Buoyed by my confidence in him as the potential solver of large problems, Mark rose to hero status. A less truthful person would report that he cried, “I’ll save you Mother!” That’s how bravely he acted. Striking up a pose that Superman would have envied, he pounded a foot on the veranda’s bottom stetp. The results were immediate. Out flew a colony of wasps, heading straight for Pirate the dog, the innocent by-stander. “Help Pirate,” shouted Mark. Pirate and I have been stung! Surprisingly, since Pirate—though not much for profanity-- has not been known as the silent type, didn’t say a word, he just ran in desperate circles until he was at last captured by Mark, who extracted a tormentor that had accidentally become entangled in the long hair between his eyes. When the excitement had died down, and the killer foam had been sprayed, and all that remained was the hum of the colony now trapped, suffocating in a formerly safe residence, I went inside to remove the watch from my swelling arm. Pirate followed me in and caught an airborn wasp. He chewed it into little pieces and swallowed every one. Mark went home to check the deck for wasps. Just one mor eexample to prove that each of us has our own way of responding when we’ve been stung.