This post is written for Friday Fictioneers. My little story follows the picture prompt below.
Wasps used to build their nest under the eves in late spring and early summer where I lived in Michigan.
Dad used to say all you have to do is hold your breath and they won’t sting you. Ha! My dad was a jokester.
My job was to go to the garage and get a broom and come out and knock them to the ground and then run like hell and hope they would not sting me.
My dad never did get stung by a wasp. I, on the other hand, have been stung numerous times.
I miss my dad.
Oh Danny Boy! 
Great story — loved the final words of it
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Those wasps stings hurt too!
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Can you blame the wasps when you knock down their home? Great story, lovely memory with a sting.
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Such a lovely remembrance of your dad. Bet he’s smiling at the memory.
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It would be nice to think so.
DJ
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My dad told me to ask a wasp politely to leave – he said flapping hands maddened them. Certainly if you stay calm you’re more likely to be able to smash them flat with a newspaper!
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Lovely father and son tale, last line is a great ending.
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I guess at least if you hold your breath they won’t fly into your mouth…
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Well, it’s the running away that did it, I guess. Maybe you should have stood still and held your breath. Or maybe not. 🙂 Good one.
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