All right. It’s time to tell you about the surprise visitor that showed up on Monday. Unfortunately, it was a tiny visitor that was sneaky and unwelcome. If you look at the photo (of the inside of a light fixture) above closely, you’ll see it trying to hide. That, my friends, is a wasp.
I should warn you now that the original title of this post was “A Surprise Visitor… Up My Dress,” but I quickly recognized the sexual innuendo, and obviously, I am no aspiring E. L. James. With a title like that, you can probably guess what happened.
After I took photos in my favorite dress, I walked back into my house. I had just run errands, so I spent a few minutes organizing things in the office and compiling everything I needed for the DMV later in the week. I walked to my bedroom to change into some comfy sweats. Boone was curled up on the bed, so I snuggled him a bit and kissed him on the head. As I walked toward our closet, there was a stabbing pain on the back of my right leg.
In crisis situations, the mind works at the speed of light. You have never seen someone rip her clothes off so quickly! I stood there in my skivvies – body frozen, eyes darting around the room, and ears perked. Oh, the expletives were spilling from my lips! Boone and Amelie were soon in the doorway with their attention to the ceiling, so I knew the culprit was winged. I grabbed a mirror to get a better look at the back of my leg and ran my fingernail over the wound site to remove the stinger, but I couldn’t find one.
I turned to our trusty bite & sting kit, and boy, did it help! The extractor was pulling venom out immediately. The pain would return intermittently like miniature electric shocks while I texted my husband with declarations that a bee stung me. No, wait! A wasp! I saw it fly into the light fixture. I was armed with Tupperware (to attempt a catch-and-release) and one of my husband’s shoes (to kill it if I started to flip out in the process of catching it). I readied myself for battle with thick socks, sweat pants, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, and jeans wrapped around my neck. I wanted a thick layer around my neck!
I laid on the floor with my sweatpants around my knees, the extractor sucking the sweet life out of my skin, and my leg elevated. I waited for my attacker to show itself again, but it never did. It seemed to have chosen the light fixture as its grave. I secured a plastic bag over the fixture with yarn to trap it.
What started out as a bad sting morphed into an insufferable migraine and mild nausea for the rest of the night. I assumed I wasn’t allergic since I had no trouble breathing and my skin wasn’t overtaken by hives, so I committed myself to bed.
The sting was nothing more than an itch 48 hours later, but I have learned how hazardous outdoor photo shoots in the country can be. I am almost positive that the wasp clung to my dress when I was outside, and then the stowaway stung me when I grabbed my dress to pull it over my head. ”Case of the Mondays” doesn’t even begin to explain that mess.
Are these dangers kept secret among fashion bloggers, or did I just get lucky? ;)