As in the little stinging SOB, not the White Anglo-Saxon Protestants.  Maggie was stung by one last weekend and we have talked of little else since.

Not talking about the stinging itself.  But the wasps.

“Are there wasps here?”


“Why not?  Where are they?”

“Somewhere else.”

“Do they like the rain?”

“No, they don’t fly in the rain.”

“Are there wasps here?”

“No, wasps don’t live in parking lots.”

“Why not?”

“They build their nests in trees and places that won’t drive away.”

And on and on we go.  She likes for me to close the garage door before she gets out of the car now.  She wants her window rolled up as we drive.  She would rather not go outside.

It’s a serious fear.

“So, Maggie, how long did it hurt when you were stung?”

“Only about a minute.”

‘You’re spending an awful lot of minutes worrying about something that only hurt for one minute.”

“Yeah, I know.  But there is just so much to worry about.”

See, some of it is just hereditary.  I gave her my nose, and my sense of humor, and my predilection for worrying.

I did look wasps up on the ole internet.  I thought I could find some tidbits of information that night put her mind at ease.  Nothing comforting there.  Now I might be scared of wasps too.


3 responses to “Wasps

  1. Aww. Wasps really stink ! They usually put me in the ER, so I think you guys did ok. Did she see the Bee Movie??

  2. let’s not introduce her to my kids. the oldest and she would sit around trading ideas on what to worry about and the middle would just give her something more to worry about!

  3. Wasps are a real nuisance in Chicago. I think they sting for the fun of it. My 20-something year old daughters still scream when they see one!

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