I Am Not An Animal

The wasp sting to my left cheek resulted in quite a bit of swelling, but, it's only noticeable when you look at my face. I mean, when you look directly at my face and are able to then compare and contrast the left to the right; if you look at my side profile, it's not quite as noticeable, which is why I intend to walk into rooms sideways today.

I'm sure I will be back to normal by tomorrow.

Well, normal for me, anyway.

In the meantime, I feel like I need to confess to tracking down and annihilating the wasps that I felt responsible for the attack on my face. I searched the garden and the fence line surrounding it for quite a while before I discovered several active nests tucked into an old birdhouse that was sitting atop the locker that holds my gardening tools, and, once discovered, I shot a stream of wasp spray into the birdhouse, effectively killing every wasp inside. A couple of the wee bastards attempted escape but I showed no mercy, drowning them each with a tidal wave of poison.

I have no regrets.

On a happier note, the garden, while having it's dangers, is also providing a bounty of fresh vegetables with which to torment the Man-Cub.

I had just cut the cabbage from it's nest of leaves and was leaving the garden when the wasp dive-bombed my face; the coleslaw I make with it better be worth the pain I endured for it's sake.