Monday, December 3, 2012
THE SECRET LIFE OF BEES...IN MY HOUSE.
It all started on a warm Sunday afternoon in October when I found the largest bumble bee of my life, dead in my laundry room, because it's leg had gotten stuck in a bobby pin. Sad. I actually don't know if that plays into my story, I just think it's gross. And sad. Also, let me preface that I am unnaturally terrified of bees. But then the real story begins a couple weeks ago...
When I got home from work I started find a tiny decapitated dead bee by my dogs food bowl in the kitchen from time to time. Gross, but manageable. I figured Coop was just decapitating the little intruders as they tried to steal his food. What self respecting dog wouldn't? The next week I found Coop barking at the carpet, for like 30 minutes. Yes, I am the kind of person who can let her dog bark incessantly for 30 minutes before investigating. Bring on the babies. Anyway as I was walking out to give him a piece of my mind I almost stepped on a bee taking a leisurely stroll through our living room. Okay, at this point, still manageable, while wearing shoes at all times.
Then, I started finding 2,3,4 dead bees at a time, on the kitchen floor. They were dead, so I complained to j.rue about it, and he promptly responded by starting a "bee collection" by putting their dead carcasses on our kitchen window sill. You know, as a warning to the others. That didn't last long.
One night, I was sitting at our bar eating some very nutritious frosting for dinner while watching a riveting episode of Grey's Anatomy. When out of no where came a very loud buzzing sound flying around my head. At least 3 times. I managed to grab my frosting and my Grey's (but somehow left my pants, shoes, and dignity) and ran outside, refusing to re-enter the premises until J.rue had cleared it. He killed the little bugger and life resumed back to normal.
Come this last Saturday morning. I was going about my business, showering, getting ready to beat the crowds to Costco. You know, the things only the best Saturdays are made of. I went down to the laundry room (naked) and started rummaging through the laundry basket looking for a fresh pair of unders, not satisfied with anything that was turning up. All of a sudden, I actually looked at that laundry basket full of unmentionables and realized that I was disturbing the LARGEST wasp/bee (because it WAS a mix of the two, a mutant if you will) who was lazily napping in said basket. Obviously after so many bee encounters I calmly walked my naked self up to the kitchen, took the bee killer spray, and sprayed that sucker until he'd seen his last day. Wiped my hands clean and moved on with the day, you know?
NOT! I actually ran my naked butt upstairs, screaming like only the littlest of girls could, and insisted to J.Rue that we were both, in fact, going to die, right then. That mutant bee was out to get us. J.rue calmly walked down stairs, captured it (WHAT?!@#$) and then started taking a look around. That's when he started gathering the masses. Luckily, most of them were dead. One did try to attack, but nothing messes with J.Rue. The photo above is proof.
Obviously, by the time J.rue came back upstairs I was a ball of naked hysterics. I was crying, twitching, wailing, all at the same time. So, that sweet boy of mine got me dressed, patted my bum, and sent me off to Costco, with promises of not resting until every bee in our house had met their maker. Needless to say, my skin was crawling for rest of the day. Doesn't yours by just looking at that picture? Also, it pains me to think that I sad in the room right next to this one watching countless Christmas movies, while those little devils flew around. A mere feet away!!!
Almost done, promise...So yesterday, I was going about my routine, getting ready to throw the sheets into the wash, when I came across the mass bee genocide. J.Rue forgot to clean up hill victims and I was still recovering from PTSD of the day before. We went through the hysterics one more time. I also need to add that there was a bee plotting his revenge for the death of his brothers by sitting on my keys that morning. Just waiting for me.
For your Monday morning update: No, I will not go into the basement to do laundry. Yes, I have visions of waves of bees breaking down a wall and swarming me.. Yes, We have clean unders to last us at least a week and we're still sleeping on dirty sheets.
More updates soon.
Love, Chelsea Ruesch