The Birds and the Bees

I'm not the only one trying to make my house a home lately. I will start with the pleasant. I have enjoyed more than ever having my front door open. There is this sweet little bird who likes my eucalyptus wreath that sits upon a peg on my security door. He perches himself right at the top and chirps away. I wished I knew what he was telling me... I think he was calling all bees though. I was in my kitchen when S. Stink goes, "Mom, there's a wasp in the house!". Sure enough there one was... in my very kitchen, on the chandelier. My girlfriend and I freaked for a minute, then figured out how we were going to get this thing out of the house. I had some spray but getting close enough to spray it was another thing I didn't want to grasp. So there I go, hopped up on a chair getting the guts to spray this thing with frights that it's just going to attack me and sting the pita chips out of me. Candace opened the back door, and I... just did it. I did it and there it flew, gracefully out of my back door into my backyard. I wasn't the one being so graceful though, and neither were the three boys huddled in the hallway waiting to see what happens and if mom gets stung. After the tension built up and I had the courage to shoot spray I screamed, and flew off of that chair to go hide in the other room. Only I couldn't get to the room because the boys had the same idea. They all ran into each other tripped and caused a dog-pile in the entryway of the room I tried to go in. We were all a little wimpy and there was Candace calmly saying, "There, there it went." Figuring out where it came from and how it got into the house though was just as scary. It came from the home it was making by my front door along with a couple other wasps and my favorite bird. That's where I drew the line. I could try and tackle one, but I'm not touching, trying or thinking about getting a home of wasps down. So great Grandpa came over with Candace's same calm attitude and flicked it down with a broom, and that was that. No more bees! Then there is my garage of tarantulas. There are only two classifications of spiders to me. All the black ones are black widows and brown ones are recluses... and I treat them all like so no matter what they really are. I can't stand them. My uncle was doing some re-arranging in my garage for me and got one when I wasn't home thankfully. But I found it's big friend in the next couple of days. I got my handy dandy spray and stood there, spraying more than half of the bottle on him to make darn sure this was his last day in my garage. I got a great April Fools joke that another wasp was in the house, courtesy of Stink and Benny. I believed them and it brought on terrible flashbacks. I didn't care for that but it gave me a good giggle. I haven't heard my dear Mr. Bird and his lovely songs since though. I really do miss that bird, but surely not his posse. I set the boundaries and those poor home-makers are all gone... and a sincerely good riddance to them.