Saturday, August 22, 2009

I Really Didn't Think It'd Bee a Problem - Part 4


Ahem, where was I...

Picture one of those '80's cop shows, the perp is in the dark, hiding behind some boxes, just waiting to pounce on the mustached cop as he turns the corner. Except, in this case the perp is a nest of wasps, and I'm the mustached cop. Oh yeah, I look wicked scary with a mustache. Kristin loooves it.

Okay, but for real, the situation is full of tension and anticipation. This insulation is coming down! I'm determined, but nervous. I spend a few minutes killing more wasps with my battery powered bug zapper - it takes no time to kill 30 wasps. I'm increasingly worried - more wasps just keep coming. How long can this last - and how big is this nest?! I wonder.

I look for some supplies. The area is dark, so I take up my flashlight. This isn't an ordinary flashlight - this is the type of flashlight you want if someone breaks into your house - it's part flashlight, part weapon. I'm not kidding; this thing weighs like 10lbs.

Weaponlight in hand, I pick up a roofing hammer. Don't ask.

I creep towards the insulation where the nest is concealed. Flashlight carefully trained on the yellow mass, I use the hooked end of the hammer to pull on the insulation. My eyes flit about the room, as wasps circle my head. They aren't going to like this, I think to myself.

The insulation is down in a second, small peices of concrete land on old paint cans and startle me - I'm frantic, looking all around, expecting wasps to attack at any moment. Four or five wasps quickly fly towards me, and I duck into another room. I figure they're going to be pretty ticked, so I'd better give them some room to calm down.

While I'm letting Team Yellow Jacket strategize, I pick up a new can of wasp spray. Oh yeah. I take it back downstairs, with my weaponlight. A small, focused beam of light pierces the dark room. I'm down on one knee, trying to get a good look at the nest. There it is, there's the command centre, I say outloud to no one.

I'm still nervous. The air conditioning isn't working and it's hot in the house. Beads of sweat land on my brow, but I'm eager to spray this nest and finish my mission without a single wasp sting. I press the trigger... nothing. Nuts.

I hurry outside, not wanting to be stung by wasps while fiddling with the spray that will finish this battle.

Outside I inspect the can; turns out I haven't opened the sprayer properly. This time I test it outside to ensure it works. A solid flow of pesticide, or other such chemical, lands on my lawn. Good, now I'm ready.

I take up the 80's cop scenario again; crouching down, I put my weaponlight on the nest - there are wasps crawling all around it. Yikes - there's still a whole lot left! Not for long...

I let loose a long shower of chemical, drenching every part of the nest I can see, which isn't much.
I wonder to myself how far the nest goes - there was a lot of bees - so the nest must be considerable. I watch the nest carefully - waiting for signs of life. I give the nest a few concentrated bursts of Raid, for good measure.

Time will tell. After 10 minutes, I see no wasps. A smile crosses my face, and I make my way up the stairs to proudly tell my bride of my courageous feat. She's impressed, proud. Oh yeah, hubby can keep his family safe from wasps. "No reason to fear", I tell my babies, "Daddy's got it under control."

I'm not sure if they can hear me yet, but they'll be impressed soon enough.

I take a break outside - Team Simons has prevailed! I walk around the back of the house, hastily pushing past the rose of sharon. I decide I should check the hole before calling it a day - just to make sure they didn't eat their way through the foam insulation. I grin - ha! - still plugged up!

I make my way back to the driveway and look down the street. I watch my neighbors for a moment, pulling in and out of the driveway. A woman walking her dog. I swat at something. A wasp. Huh, I guess you're homeless now, I think to myself.

My eyes follow him down toward the window to my den. He crawls through a hole. Ooooh No!

I look closer. Four small hole in the vinyl casing that holds the window in place. Each hole precisely the size needed to let wasps climb in and out - no bigger than the head of a Q-Tip.

A second nest. This time on the other side of our house.

Tomorrow - Part 5 - Nest #2...


Sue said...

Holy smokes Paul... this should be a reality tv show now! lol

I know you can conquer them ALL!! You are SUPER DAD... defender of the pregnant and unborn. Da da da DAAAAAAA!

Cathy W. said...

Great story - How many wasps can a house hold??? The mustache looks good - I don't know about scary though when you are wearing a cute "Snowman Hat" !!!

You are going to be such a FUN Dad !!!