No one likes yellow jackets

The Wife graduated from the University of Virginia, home of the Wahoos – a fish that can drink twice its body weight in water.

I attended Auburn University, home of the Tigers – an animal that can eat twice its weight in slow- moving, drunken Wahoos.

But even though we attended very different universities, we agree on two things. Orange and blue are the perfect colors for a football team, and we have a deep-seated hatred for those pesky, little yellow jackets.

Yellow jackets have no real purpose in life, except to cause pain and irritation to the rest of us. Oh, sure, one could say they’re good engineers. Some of the homes they build are quite elaborate, especially the underground ones, but for the most part we would be better off without them. According to the friend I bumped into last week, the only good yellow jacket is a dead yellow jacket.

The Wife and I had just bought pizza for us and The Boy and climbed back into the truck when we spotted my friend lumbering down the sidewalk. His little 5-year-old girl was doing pirouettes around him as he limped over. It was without a doubt the quintessential picture of the Beauty and the Beast.

He turned his face to one side, “Hey, Rick. You notice anything strange about my head?”

I smiled, “You mean other than your bad hair cut?”

He scowled, grunted “No,” and pointed towards his right ear, an ear that was beet red and swollen three its normal size. “Ran over a nest of yellow jackets while cutting grass. They tore me up. Lucky they didn’t sting my little girl. She was out in the yard playing.”

“Of course they didn’t,” I replied, “she wasn’t the one who ran over and destroyed their house – if you destroyed my house I’d be mad at you, too.”

Then he showed me the multiple stings he received on his head, elbow, and legs while bravely fighting off the yellow jackets to protect his young daughter. The Wife and I sat spelled bound at the reenactment of each sting. Our mouths dropped as he told us how he fought off hundreds, nay thousands of the stinging yellow wasps, knowing he was the only thing standing between the swarm and his little princess playing nearby in the fresh cut lawn.

Actually, he scooped up his little girl and ran like crazy, screaming to the house. Just like the rest of us would have done when being bombarded by angry yellow jackets. I just added all that other stuff because it made the story sound good.

I asked if he knew that for some people who are allergic to wasps, even one sting from a yellow jacket can cause a true medical emergency. The wasp stinger has no barbs, and one yellow jacket can sting repeatedly. Anyone who is allergic should have an epinephrine pen handy, especially during the hot summer month when yellow jackets are extremely defensive if their nest is disturbed. But if they experience shortness of breath, or think they need emergency treatment, they should call 911 immediately. The county’s has a really good fire department with highly trained paramedics who can treat and transport them to the hospital.

As the little princess hid behind him, he nodded his swollen head and flashed a knowing look as he smiled, “You know, I heard that. The county does have a really good fire and EMS department.”

Side note: You can remove the stinger by scraping the edge of a credit card across it or pull it out with a pair of tweezers. But avoid pinching the venom sac on the end of the stinger. The venom will be released if the sac is broken. Once the stinger is removed, wrap ice in a wash cloth and place on the site, but monitor carefully. Ice left on skin for too long can cause skin damage.

The Wife and I wished him the best with his bee stings and told him if he got tired of cutting his own grass we knew of a good lawn service. We drove off as the Beauty and the Beast continued their stroll down the sidewalk. The dad scratched his bee stings as he limped away, and his little princess did pirouettes behind him. Little kids are indeed a wonderful gift.

Oddly enough, we saw them the next day at the local hardware store with the blue roof. The Wife and I were buying a window air conditioner. Our house air conditioner has gone out for the fourth time this year. We were discussing what I could write about this week, when inspiration came walking down the main aisle in the form of my yellow jacket stung friend. We notice the only thing in his cart was four jumbo cans of yellow jacket killer – the kind that shoots a foaming stream from 20 feet away. Like I said, the only good yellow jacket is a dead yellow jacket.

Before he walked off, I had one more tad bit of advice, “If that spray doesn’t work, you can always wait until Tech plays Auburn or the University of Virginia to make you feel better. After those two games, there should be a lot of deceased yellow jackets lying around.”