Yesterday, my wife calmly pointed out a bee/wasp/hornet on her pillow. Like one of Pavlov’s conditioned dogs, I reached for a tissue, gathered the creature in its folds, and took it outside to set it free. I guess technically it was free inside our house, and I was the one who imprisoned it in a tissue, so is that really setting it free? It’s kind of like when Donald Trump signs a heinous Executive Order, chaos ensues, and then he “fixes” the problem by revoking the order, most likely because some circuit court judge ordered him to do so.
Anyway, my wife’s pillow was bee/wasp/hornet-free when she was ready for bed last night. We both slept soundly, with my sounds being mostly snores. That was until I felt a sharp pain in my arm, like a deranged acupuncturist was loose in our bedroom. I groggily reached for the area, grabbed something, threw it on my nightstand, and went back to a fitful sleep. I dreamed I had a stinging pain in my arm the rest of the night. Meanwhile, my wife dreamed she was married to a pain in the neck for the rest of her life.
In the morning, I awoke to this …
What a coincidence! Not only did I dream about being stung, but it looks like I actually had been. I’m not normally so free and easy with distributing intimate pictures of the underside of my arm, but I am quite fond of this pic. It makes it seem like I actually have musculature in my left arm. Spoiler Alert (for those readers that plan to stalk me at some time in the future): I don’t. And to make the stalking easier, just contact me to make an appointment. For those that have already stalked me, thank you and sorry my life is so dull.
Then I looked at my nightstand and what did I find on it besides a lamp, books, headphones, tablet, and wadded up tissues? This grizzly fellow.
The only thing missing from this crime scene was a chalk outline around the body of the bee/wasp/hornet. That happened to be the same type of bee/wasp/hornet that I had set free outside the day before. Was it the same one that came back inside to exact revenge upon me for what we will call Tissuegate the day before? Was it the mate of the bee/wasp/hornet I had so callously separated from its soulmate? Was it just some rogue bee/wasp/hornet that attacks old white men indiscriminately? OWMLM! We will likely never know.
There is only one thing I know for sure. The next time my wife stirs a Pavlovian reaction from me due to a small creature inside our home, I may be more confrontational than kind …
I don’t want to wake up to see this …
And as we sleep, we have so many unprotected orifices, or would that be orifi?
Who knows what can crawl into your mouth at night when you’re yawning?
Well, this blog post has really gone off the rails. To wrap things up, my arm will be fine and bugs are really not that big of a deal. Or are they?
Bugs can be cool. If you let them, they can even get under your skin.