We have a nest of wasps on our balcony. It’s not huge, but it’s sizeable. It started back around the end of May or maybe in June; I don’t remember entirely. It’s grown, and the number of wasps clinging to it and buzzing around it has also grown. It’s like a science experiment attached to our house.
Have I mentioned that I’m a little bit terrified of bees and wasps?
Back whenever I first noticed it, I planned to go out at night, spray it with kill-the-nasty-buggies spray, and run back inside. The next morning, I’d sweep all the dead insects off my balcony and knock down the nest. Good plan, right? No one wants wasps hanging out in their primary outdoor sit-and-watch-the-world-go-by place. Except Dave said, “Oh, leave them alone. They’re not hurting anything.”
I like creepy crawlies in the abstract; they’re interesting and often pretty. I collected bugs as a child, I still love grasshoppers and frogs and crickets and katydids and ladybugs and lizards and butterflies, and I even co-owned a snake once upon a time. As long as the seriously scary creepy crawlies are far from the house, I’m content to let nature be, but I don’t really want anything bothersome quite so near to where I live. The husband, however, is somewhat protective of all sorts of buglets. I’ve seen him cup a stinkbug oh-so-gently in his hands and escort it outside. I’ve seen him softly use paper to scooch a spider out of the way. I can’t recall ever seeing him squash anything. My husband, my cranky, Irish-Italian tempered, cursing, Larry David of a husband, believes in letting nature mind its own business, doing what comes naturally to it provided we are not actually in danger.
It’s infuriating, but he’s right. The wasps haven’t hurt a thing. No one’s been stung (or bitten, whatever), not even close. They still make me nervous when I’m out there before darkness has well and fallen and they’re still flying around a bit actively, but they haven’t acted aggressively. Luckily, I’m not the kind of girl who jumps up on a table screaming for rescue when she sees a bug, because my husband would likely not come running to kill it. And honestly? I rather love him all the more because of that.