Last week I got stung by a wasp. It made me SO MAD! I went outside in the pouring rain to empty the water bucket due to a gutter issue that my newly retired father-in-law has now fixed (hooray TOM!) and felt a breath-sucking prick when I grabbed the bucket.
I dropped the bucket, half fell down the porch steps, and saw the little bugger flitting around in a puddle. After gleefully stomping him and annihilating his nest (located in the bucket handle) with a stick, I danced around in the rain holding my finger and saying not nice things as Anna watched me through the front door with a look that said, "I really hope none of the neighbors are seeing this!"
I got back inside and moaned and carried on as best I could, expecting at least a little sympathy from Anna and getting none. Then I called Curt for sympathy and to have him google wasp stings to make sure the pain three inches ABOVE the sting wasn't a sign of acute blood poisoning. For added sympathy, I made sure to call my mother-in-law Becky, whom I'm sure was instrumental in the speedy gutter fix after that!
All this made me remember, for the first time in many, many years, the two (to my knowledge) other times I've been stung. My family accuses me of making up memories but these two are CLEAR in my head! Severe pain will do that!
The first was at my Aunt Pat's house. I was either coming in or going out of the side door in their kitchen and was stung on their side porch on a really, really hot day! All I remember of that one is sitting on their couch in the living room (which is still in the same spot today) being nursed by mom and Aunt Pat.
The other time I was a little older and I was by myself at Camp Wawbansee sitting on the life guard stand by the lake. I can't fathom why I was by myself as it doesn't happen very often at camp. It must have been one of those few years we helped "run" the camp with my mom and were there before any campers were. I remember having a very existential moment on that life guard stand and I'm sure I was thinking very deep thoughts :-). I was just contemplating going back when I heard a very quiet buzz. I remember being scared right away, as if some primordial danger alarm sounded before there was a hint of danger. Then one ominous looking wasp floated up from the front of the stand, hovered a second or two, and dropped. My thoughts were two-fold: "whew" and "I need to the the ___ out of here before he brings friends". Sure enough, I put one little girl scout-y foot on the top rung of the stand and I hear multiple winged demons fly up from under the stand. Before I knew it, I leapt off the top of the stand, but not before one or two little beasties got me. I'm pretty sure I got stung more than once. I tore down the path towards the big lodge where I was hoping to find mom AND the camp cook who kept homemade popsicles hidden in the freezer. I don't remember much other than a small feeling of pride and bravery when I told the first adult I saw that I had been stung... multiple times... by wasps and lived to tell about it! (With only puffy, watery eyes and sniffles left as evidence of my true state of mind as a tore off down the path.)