You know those times when you have to wake up your mama bear to protect your cubs? Those times when a bully has decided to pick on your kid or a creepy van is roaming the neighborhood? I recently had one of these moments where I had to come out of hibernation and get all Pioneer Mama Bear on someone to protect my kids. Enter, big, hairy and quite scary, Mr. Wasp.
It was a typical afternoon in a typical suburban house. I had just gotten back from the store with the kids. The two younger boys made a beeline down to the basement to play while Son #1 and I brought in groceries from the car. As I was leaning into the trunk of my car, my oldest comes barreling out of the house yelling at me. The look of terror on his face scared me to death. My first thought was, “Did Son #2 do something to Son #3?” My second thought was, “Did I leave the stove on? Is the house on fire?” My third thought was, “Did I forget to DVR the Bachelorette?” I told Son #1 to take a breath and tell me what’s going on because he was freaking me out.
“There is a REALLY BIG wasp in the kitchen.”
I screamed. After composing myself I said, “Okay. Don’t panic. We can do this. We’ve got this. Let’s go in.”
“That’s okay,” Son #1 replied, “I’ll stay right here and watch from the garage.”
“Thanks a lot,” I said, “but I need your help. You are the oldest. You have to help me.”
We took a couple deep breaths and slowly walked into the kitchen. There he was, Mr. Hairy Scary, sitting on MY cup on the counter. He was really big. At that point, Son #2 and #3 came up to the kitchen and asked what was going on. I told them about the wasp. They turned around screaming and ran back down to the basement. Son #3 then locked himself in the basement bathroom and said, “I’m not coming out until he’s gone!”
I knew then that if I ever wanted to see my kid again, I had to get rid of Hairy. That is the exact moment my Mama Bear woke up. I marched into the kitchen (actually sort of crawled) and started to gather my weapons. I had a can of Roach and Ant Killer Spray, a spatula, a long-handled shoe horn and two paper plates. I was ready.
I sprayed the enemy several times with the Roach and Ant Killer. I wacked him with the spatula. Wack! Scream! Wack! Scream! With one last flurry of movement, he fell to the floor and shrivelled up. It was done. He was dead. I saved the day.
I turned to Son #1 and said, “Now you can throw him away for me.”
“No way! I’m not going near him!”
“Fine. We will do it together.”
With our long-handled shoe horn and two paper plates, we scooped up Mr. Hairy Scary, ran outside screaming and threw him into the yard. I’m sure all our neighbors think we are crazy, but my house is wasp-free and my children are a bit traumatized, but safe. Good job, Mama Bear.