Yup, they’re still here. Will they never die? Admittedly, they aren’t as bad as they were. The ones that get in now are confused, twitchy, and not long for this world. But they still have enough oomph to make it to my bathroom, where they crawl around on the rug, or the covered toilet seat. Brrr. That’s the scariest place they’ve been.
Pierce Tattoo did say to call him back if they were still coming in after a week, and it’s been two, but I have a confession to make: I am more afraid of chemicals than of yellow jackets. Yup, just fifteen minutes south of Love Canal and I have a HUGE fear of man-made chemicals: insecticides, herbicides, defoliants…I’d rather swim with sharks. At least I can see the sharks coming. At least I can fight back against the shark, punch him in the eye, growl in my snorkel (that scares them away every time–add that tidbit to your “if I’m ever attacked by a shark” mental file). But chemicals? They are silent, deadly, insidious, and I hate them with the most irrational of fears. They poison the air we breathe, the soil in which we grow our food, the water supply on which we all depend. Did you know that delousing shampoo is one of the worst water polluters of all? One tiny bottle of it can utterly contaminate something like 20,000 gallons of water? (Okay, I’m not giving reliable facts now, just promoting my fear. I’ll try to get actual stats and get back to you.)
ANYway, as bugs go, the yellow jackets squash with a really satisfying little “pop” under the shoe. They aren’t messy, squishy diers at all. And I tell myself that my karma won’t be damaged because they were dying anyway, and I’m just putting them out of their misery. But my dear husband is so frustrated he’s ready to pull down the wall and see just what lies behind it.
Not me, though. No way, Jose.
Too many chemicals have been sprayed back there.