A few days back, Scott took on the ultimate opponent: a nest of wasps that had set up shop in the top corner of our stairwell. He used the super long-range insta-kill bug spray, and knocked out the whole family (well, what was there at the time). And yes, he did wash his hands. I made sure of it!
Thanks to the stellar efforts of our local maintenance and pest control staff, there is still a scattering of dead wasps (hornets? killer bees? your guess is as good as mine!) on the stairwell. No biggie - unlike dead roaches, dead wasps don't skeeve me out the same way.
Correction: didn't skeeve me out.
This morning, when I left for work, there was a dead wasp on the roof of my car. It was obviously not road kill - the position was off, and the body was pristine. The wasp either died on top of my car while my car was parked, or was placed there after it died. Instantly, my mind went to that scene in whichever Godfather movie that had the horse head in the guy's bed.
Are the wasps sending us a message? "Stop killing us, or we'll kill you?"
That's it - it's time to move!
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