I brought you a new guest post today, Pranksters, so that I can spend today lazily writing up resources for Band Back Together on such light topics as “Rape!” and “Abuse!” I’m practically taking the day off, really. This is my home-slice LittleBig, and she’s fucking hilarious. Don’t forget your charity posts, yo.

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Recently Aunt Becky asked me to guest blog and several hours later when I regained consciousness I was almost bitten by a black widow. Coincidence? I think not. She made me an offer I can’t refuse.

I couldn’t fathom why she’d ask me to contribute until I realized she was probably needed time off to listen to her John C.Mayer albums. (Ed Note: I fucking hate you, slut) She’s doing recon to reveal his weak points. So far she’s uncovered the fact that this wonderland he keeps talking about is actually some sort of lame Euro-Disney.

Let me introduce myself: I’m a wife, mother and librarian living the agricultural center of California. My life is a glamorous mix of trying to make ends meet, surviving through an autoimmune disease, and savoring the small moments that make life worthwhile.

I took advantage of the fact I was interviewed by NPR to say ‘bird porn’ and ‘butt wiggle’ on the radio. My daughter is a year and a half and when I’m not playing outside with her I’m digging through bins of junk at the local thrift store. I love the thrill of tracking down good vintage items so much that in a former life I must have been a tomb raider.

I’m going to tell you a story about the time my house was invaded by bees. I wrote the original story in about two minutes so this version is revised somewhat. Why this specific story? Because if you know me then you know I get a ton of hits to my blog from people searching for “motherfucking wasp website.” That’s me! Your virtual source for angry hornets.

It started last year when Isobel was just two sweet weeks old. My sister, who was living with us at the time, noted that our 25lb cat Zorro was acting strangely, even for him, and she went into the kitchen to take a closer look.

SHE FOUND A BEE. IN MY HOUSE.

A BEE! IN MY HOUSE!

Zorro had stunned the poor thing and between the two of us and a shoe we managed to kill it.

Now, I like bees. In fact, I’d say I’m fond of bees and am keenly aware of their necessary role in our food supply. I’m worried about the loss of native pollinators in the Valley.

But I had a newborn baby in the house and I wasn’t taking any chances. How the bee got in my kitchen was a mystery. We don’t have window screens so we never open the windows for fear the cats would get out. The only thing that seemed to fit was the air vent in the ceiling. At the time we had a pest control service, so I immediately got on the phone and requested someone come over POST HASTE to fix our bee situation.

I explained that we had a newborn. I didn’t have to explain that I was on the edge.

As much as I loathe the idea of spraying poison around our yard we have something of a black widow problem. Our house sat vacant for a year before we moved in an black widows established so many colonies we had (a mourning? a murder? a poisoning?) a SHITLOAD of black widows. I’d find them daily, sometimes twice a day, whenever I went outside. We temporarily decided it was worth it to get pest control.

Our Very Nice Pest Man arrived and searched for an entrance. He sprayed and double-sprayed. He said that most likely the bees were getting in from the attic. He could spray there but we’d have to load up the baby and cats and be gone awhile. I was not happy with the idea of bug-bombing the place with a newborn, so we decided to wait.

After that first incident, our Bee Incidences died down.

Occasionally throughout that summer we’d noticed Zorro flipping out and we’d realize we had another bee in the kitchen. Zorro would either kill it for us or damage it and we’d finish it off with the fly swatter. I’d like to say right here, right now that our cat Zorro is THE BEST DOG EVER AND I LOVE HIM.

Once the weather started cooling down in October our Bee Incidences stopped altogether. Winter saved our home from insect invasion better than The Very Nice Pest Man could.

Winter passed, and summer rolled around again. But this time it was different.

WE FOUND WASPS.

MOTHERFUCKING WASPS!

IN MY MOTHERFUCKING HOUSE!

As horrible as the bees were, this was a million times worse.

Yellow Jackets.

Even the name makes me shudder.

Have you ever been stung by a Yellow Jacket?

Those bastards don’t die with the sting the way THOSE POOR SWEET BEES DO. Those bastards ARE SADISTS WHO ENJOY YOUR TERROR AND PAIN. They sting you OVER AND OVER AGAIN.

Nobody is ever stung just once by a wasp. They are stung multiple times before the wasp flies off, FREE AND CLEAR, LIKE A HIT-AND-RUN DRIVER.

Wasps are terrorists.

Wasps are bullies.

And they were in our house.

We finally were able to determine (after much angst and hand-wringing, and multiple wasp-blows with a shoe) that they were indeed coming in through a vent. Perhaps they were coming in through our dilapidated roof, or perhaps they were coming in through our attic.

Either way, they were using the vent.

At this point we could no longer afford the services of The Very Nice Pest Man but I convinced Anthony that something needed to be done.

I was tired of these MOTHER FUCKING WASPS IN THE MOTHER FUCKING HOUSE.

He said, you’re right. Let’s go to the store.

At our local Hardware Supply Store we talked to a very understanding and sympathetic girl who was probably half my age.

What could she possibly know about wasps? I thought. She’s still learning the ways of the world!

She told us where we could not only get Yellow Jacket traps for the attic but also filters to physically block the vents that would still let air through.

I said, Thank you. We’ll take seven.

At this point we were averaging about four wasps per week which in my opinion is ten too many. This situation disturbed me so deeply I started having nightmares about it.

I’m happy to say that since Anthony installed the trap and layered our vents with filters we’ve had only one wasp issue, and that was because Anthony did not layer up one vent completely like I requested him to.

Since then we haven’t been troubled by wasps inside our house, but the experience has scarred me for life.

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If you missed me, Your Aunt Becky (which, hi, you totally didn’t because I’m still laughing at this motherfucking post), here’s where I was this week.

HOW TO HAVE BETTER THE SEX. I bolded it because, well, obviously. Also, I had a troll tell me I was prude, so I motherfucking SHOWED HER.

I got interviewed over at Sex (SEE, NOT PRUDE) and the Single Dad.

My essay about my friend Stef is up over at The Drinking Diaries.

And holy shitballs, Band Back Together needs you. Yes you. Get your whore mouth over there. I know you have a story. So get your pants on (or off) and tell it.