In Praise Of … Wasps

Wasps get a bad press.  Well, apart from this article, they most certainly do

I am, apparently, one of those rare individuals who can let a wasp land on my hand or leg and not immediately turn into an arm-flapping, whirling dervish, with murderous intent and screaming exhortations of mayhem.

Over the years, I’ve occasionally been stung by wasps, and it was really no more painful than a cat’s scratch or a lover’s bite … but, the impending threat offered by these tiny, black and yellow punks of the insect world seem to turn the average person in to a frantic and furious, fear-filled psychopath.

I like to refer to this highly irrational form of mental instability as:  “Wasperger’s Syndrome”

Wasps fill a niche in the food-chain and control a plethora of other creepy-crawlies who’d over-run our existence if it wasn’t for the murderous ministrations of these wee biological jump-jets.

And … Wasps don’t crap on you.

Now, that statement might seem redundant, but as I sat here, in my garden, on a, sunny, barbeque-beckoning afternoon, I observed a passing wasp release a tiny crap, while in mid-flight.

Astonished? You betcha!

I’ve been around for decades and I’ve never been crapped on by a wasp.  How considerate is that?

I’ve been shat on by seagulls, starlings, blackbirds and thrush.  I’ve waded through dog-poop, cat-poop, and even my own kids’ poop … but in all my years, a wasp has NEVER fouled my existence.

That’s astonishing

Wasps are cool … and, as a bonus, they also sting kids

We, as adults, are no longer happy about the prospect of a kid being skelped … and that is as it should be … so, it’s nice to know that payback is still there, in the prospect of our wee pal, the lowly wasp.

Stu Who?

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