It’s a badly-kept secret that I’m terrified of wasps.
My usual tactic is to try and stop their hearts by screaming loudly and piercingly.
A while back, I found myself in a great seaside café, when a certain someone said, “Don’t scream, but there’s a wasp on the table.”
I can cope with that as long as it’s not buzzing near me.
However, the very next moment, someone flicked the wasp away from the table so that it ricocheted off my forehead with the horrible force of a rubber ball. With a sting.
I leapt up, did a mad dance, and I might have let out a high squawk of some sort.
I’m not sure, but when I came to my senses, I realized that everyone in the restaurant was staring at me.
The anklebiters had taken refuge under the table.
And the guests nearest us switched tables in order to move away from the mad woman.
I don’t blame them… I wanted to get away from me her too…
I’m not sure why, but my kids say they find me embarrassing!
By the way, no wasps were harmed in the writing of this article…
For more stories, please visit: Camera Critters.
The difficult part of this tag is that instead of telling you all how wonderful I think they are, I’m supposed to tell you why I’m so great. I’m not sure if you are ready for this – but here goes!
I am awesome because:
- I’ve got my own teeth, hair and wrinkles. And I don’t bite my nails, eat my hair or suck my toes.
- I can already embarrass my kids at the tender ages of 6 and nearly 8. Just imagine how honed my skills will be when they are teenagers!
- What I lack in sewing, housekeeping and cooking skills (I’ve got milk splashes on my ceiling, for goodness sake!), I make up for with my imagination.
- I can scream like a girl. In fact, I spend all summer screaming whenever I see wasps. I’ve developed a scream that can kill them of a heart attack from a distance of 3 metres.
- I can cut off a subject’s head when taking a photo and have mastered the art of lop-sided composition. (That pig just wouldn’t pose!)
- I climb the stairs instead of using the lift or moving escalator.
- I encourage my kids to play, scream and get dirty. My motto is: You’re kids! You’re supposed to run around screaming and get dirty! Whenever I complain about the anklebiters being too noisy or bringing in too much dirt into the house, then they throw that motto right back in my face. In fact, once my daughter looked down at herself and said apologetically, “Sorry, mama! I wasn’t doing my job today. I’m just too clean!”
A few weeks ago, a friend of mine wrote a post (in Swedish) about her child tantruming, and she wondered what would happen if she went round acting like a six-year-old in her daily life.
This was before I got going with my own blog. I intended to start a blog and then write about this badical new method that I dub “Doing business the six-year-old way”. I got going with the blog, but then got sidetracked by all sorts of subjects… like: rain, getting wet, the Olympics, school, sadistic tooth cleaning, annoying salesmen and some crazy onions.
Today, my friend took up the suggestion of trying out this new business method in her blog. That was it: if I procrastinated any more, then my method would be patented and successful before you could chant, “Losers weepers! Finders keepers!”
The golden rule of this radical new method is this… come nearer… and I’ll whisper it to you:
ACT LIKE A SIX-YEAR-OLD HAVING A TERRIBLE, EAR-SHATTERING TANTRUM!
First of all, if you don’t have any handy six-year-olds at home, then you can use a two- or three-year-old. Note how they take a deep breath, open their mouths, look at you for effect, and then start screaming at the top of their voices. The kind of scream that shatters glasses, windows and eardrums. Note how they go red in the face, and then scarlet, then purple and finally puce. And if they still don’t get their own way, note the graceful way they will throw themselves on the ground, stamping their feet and fists in fury. And – if all else fails – watch out for those angry teeth!
Try out a few tantrums at home first.
Then you’re ready to give it a go at work. Salary negotiations would be the perfect time to use this new method. Name an astronomical wage rise, and then start screaming when your boss says no. If the boss does not give in, throw yourself on the ground (remember to wear trousers or clean underwear that day), stamp your feet and scream, “But I WAAAAAAAANT that much money a month. I WAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNT it!”
If you are not ready for the full-blown tantrum, then try turning on the tears. Let’s say that you went out to a fancy restaurant with friends last weekend, had way too many bottles of champagne and expensive food and ended up footing the bill.
You then decide to claim the money back on your expenses, and call it a ‘working dinner’. The company accountant is usually wise to this sort of ploy so will probably say no at this stage.
Do not be down-hearted: get that mouth trembling, pout with the lower lip, scrunch up your face and get those tears flowing. (You might need to cover your hands in onion juice or stick yourself in the butt with a sharp knife to get the tears started.)
You’ll be surprised by how often crying works…
One final tip: if these methods fail and you get fired (remember that new ways of thinking are hard for others to accept…), then just act like any kid would. Mooch around the house for a couple of days, then wander into the office and go back to work as normal. When your boss comes out to talk to you, then just wave and smile and ask, “Do you want to come out and play?”