The Wasp Dance

I’m one of those people that really, really doesn’t like wasps. They look evil, they sound evil, they pretty much are evil wrapped up in a pulsating pointy sack of stripeyness.

The Other Half ranges between amused and annoyed about this. Family picnics are disturbed as I run around in circles whimpering, before climbing into the car and refusing to come out again. Barbecues are surrounded by as much citronella emitting substance as I can gather. And often I can be observed carrying out what might appear to be a homage to the ministry of silly walks whilst trying to simply make my way down the street dodging wasp attacks.

Just recently though, Bubby D has begun to notice my rather odd behaviour. I don’t really want to pass on my fears to the kids, and I’ve been trying very hard to sit calmly and do my panicking on the inside as buzzy things make rings around my head. I’ve managed it for bees, because bees are after all, a bit friendlier in general. But if a wasp comes too close then I just can’t help it.

Seeing me get up, whimper, and run around in a circle, Bubby D immediately got to her feet, stepped in behind me and started following me, making an equally silly noise. And then giggled.

Then, I realised. She thinks that ‘the Wasp Dance’ is just a funny mummy game. And she loves it!

Before long, the Wee Man joined in, and soon we had a whole Wasp Dance train going on!

The wasp by this point was long gone, but the dance carried on and it was lots of fun, with squealing and laughing and weaving about.

So at least there is something good to come from my fears!