Remind me not to do that again

Okay.

It goes like this.

Virtually every moment of stupidity sounded like a good idea at one time or another. That's why we go ahead and act out our chain of irrational thought to its conclusion. It's like watching a runaway locomotive slamming into the back end of a parked train at the station.

We want the train to stop. We even hear the whistle bellowing a warning unmistakeable. But we don't actually do anything about stopping it.

Sort of like deciding that killing a wasp or wood borer bee is a brilliant thought.

The idea is sound. Rid yourself of a dangerous pest (particularly if you are allergic!) and become the nemesis to the menace of the moment.

But, what is seldom considered or counted on occurring is the revenge of the critter who is just as anxious to live as you are to help it die.

In what could only be described as a pantomime of wild cavorting for the entire neighborhood to watch, the nasty little insects made life a rollercoaster ride of thrills without the price of admission.

After suffering both a sting and the added insult of spraining an ankle, the nasty critters score is 1 and mine is about negative 312.

Finally, once his laughter has subsided, my son offers to help remove the pesky little demons from the home. He does so with a karate like chop of the swatter he is employing and manages to kill the first of the advace party without further ado. He also casually manages to make my failure that much more painful as he dispatches all of the current crop of offending stinging demons and restores the patio to order.

That's well and good for now, Bub, but what do I do when, as all kids do, you grow up and LEAVE me to deal with them? I see a Hitchcockian thriller in the offing. Surrounded by millions of tiny insects and winged creatures, I must fight my way back into safey without mussing my hair.

Or not.

Maybe I will have to hire a killer surrogate to take on the task of sparing me from my misery.
Or maybe I can just learn to live with them and all just hold hands...or feelers.

Either way, I think that we all know who will win this one.

And it ain't me.