“I’m Float’n Like a Butterfly, You Get Stung By The Bee!”

It’s funny how such a small thing can make you move so fast. Phobias catch us all at one time or another, for me its bees. It’s not really that I’m afraid of them, I just don’t like them. Kinda like standing on the tracks when a train’s coming; if I hear the horn I get off the tracks, simple as that.

OK, OK so a bee isn’t exactly a freight train, but that’s what a phobia does. It makes you act irrationally in a rational situation.

For instance, I used to own a painting business and as you can imagine, I would run into my fair share of wasp and hornet nests hiding under the eaves. In one particular house, we found a nest that was a bit hard to get to, but with some ingenuity, I found a way to get to it so I could destroy the pesky thing.

Before I go too much further, let me premise this by saying “Don’t Try This At Home!” It’s not a good idea; never was, and I’m about to prove it.

Anyway, knowing how I feel about these little pests, my wife thought she would tag along, thinking she would get a good laugh. Boy was she wrong. When we got there I pulled out my can of bug spray and my twelve foot painting pole. With a little masking tape I joined the two together and wallah, I had an ingenious device that would reach the high illusive nest.

As I got ready to do battle, my wife rolled her eyes and stepped back. This, as it turned out, was her biggest mistake.

One more piece of tape to jam the sprayer into position and I was off. I hoisted the spewing can up into the air, took aim and bam; direct hit. Unfortunately, these particular wasps must have flunked out of architect school because as soon as the stream hit the nest, it fell.

Oh yes, here comes the freight train!

As soon as it came down, I was off. I went east and the poison spewing poll went west, right to where my wife was standing.

In a way I guess she got her wish, because as soon as I took off I was followed by gales of laughter, but the laughter didn’t laugh long. When the can came down, it blasted her from head to toe. I couldn’t have done it better if I’d tried. Luckily the deluge didn’t last long. Somehow, when she closed her eyes to duck, she had the forethought to position herself to shut the whole contraption off when it hit the top of her skull. It worked like a charm.

In case you’re wondering, she was not laughing.

Being the brave and fearless husband I am, I yelled from the street and motioned for to her to get to the other side of the house so I could hose her off. In the end, I think I saved the day, but I have a feeling she didn’t agree.

So now I have a phobia of bees and wives, but I manage to cope with them both in my own ways.

Do you have a good story about some little bugger that sent you over the edge? I would love to hear about it. And don’t forget, painting polls and bug spray just don’t mix!