Today we’re taking a break from theology and books and just having some fun at my expense. Enjoy!
We’ve recently moved closer to my husband’s workplace. What used to be a 45 minute one-way commute is now 8 minutes. So, on occasion, I have the pleasure of seeing my husband at lunch.
Our story starts a beautiful fall day two weeks ago. My husband and I are sitting across the kitchen table, staring fondly into one another’s eyes, connecting soul-to-soul through small talk about daily happenings and the weather when a buzzing comes from behind me and flies over my right shoulder toward my husband. I have no idea where the wasp came from. The windows and door were shut. It was like he metamorphosed from thin air.
After our heart rates returned to normal, we finished lunch and my husband was about to head back to work.
“Wait!” I said. “You have to kill the wasp before you leave.” That’s what God gave us husbands for, right?
So my husband goes over to the sink and picks up a full roll of…paper towels. I mean really, was this guy serious?
“What are you going to do? Pillow it to death? Give me your shoe.” (I was barefoot, plus I normally wear Tevas, and those are too flexible to be any good at killing a wasp.)
I should stop at this point and explain that I have never been stung by a wasp, bee, hornet or what-have-you. I have a secret suspicion that I’m allergic and will die if I’m ever stung. This will help explain what happens next…
My husband takes off his shoe and hands it to me. No questions asked. The only thing he says to me is, “Don’t break the window.”
What has successfully worked for me in the past in my wasp-killing career is to wait until they’re on the window, close the blinds, then whack the guts out of the wasp through the blinds. That way, even if you miss the first time, it’s caught and you can keep whacking until the job is done.
Did I mention that we had moved into a new house? Our new windows are made up of individual panes, roughly 11×14 inches. Instead of the nice, thick Anderson windows that we had at our old place, the glass is no thicker than glass in a picture frame. To top it off, my husband sees that I’m about to whack the wasp through our vertical blinds, and tells me, “Don’t do that. It won’t kill him.”
I’m firmly convinced that if I hadn’t interfered with my husband or he hadn’t interfered with me, things would have been fine. Unfortunately, we sabotaged each other. I picked up my husband’s shoe by the toes (remember, he gave me his shoe without protest), and I swung at the wasp with all my might. And I missed the wasp, but I hit the window pane just fine and it shattered.
So Mr. Wasp sits down on the broken pane happy as can be. Since the window is already broken, it doesn’t hurt for me to swing again, right? Me, shoe, whack…and this time I miss both the wasp and the window. And then the strangest thing happens…the wasp flies out the broken window never to be seen again.
And what does my husband do? He says, “When you go to Home Depot to get a new window pane, I’m going to need some silicone too.” He’s awesome like that. Able to laugh at my hare-brained destruction of our new home.
So a week later, we’d bought 4 different window panes before we got the right size. The pre-cut ones at Home Depot were both too small. Then we measured a window pane from the top half of the windows (11-1/4 x 13-1/4 inches) which happens to be different than the ones on the bottom half of the window (10-5/8 x 14). Go figure.
My husband, ever the pragmatist, tells me, “I would have stunned the wasp with the paper towels, and then I could have stepped on him.”
To which I replied, “But I had your shoe!”
So why did I tell you this story? No reason. Just because I thought it was pretty funny and it gives great insight into the type of person I am: a girl with really, truly bad aim.
So let me here from you: Do you have any great insect killing or window breaking stories? Or some other crazy thing you’ve done that didn’t work out as expected? I’d love to hear it! C’mon, make me feel better. 😉