The Wasp and The Spider
The other night, I went to close the blind on my studio window.
Somehow, the strings got tangled, and the blind jammed. So, I snaked an arm past my pot-plant Fred to try and unravel the snarl-up. Unfortunately, my sleeve caught my mannequin Lisa’s wig, and knocked it to the floor. I reached down to pick it up, and as my fingers curled into the nylon locks, I felt something sharp. I recoiled in time to see a dozy-looking wasp emerging from the wig.
Amazingly, I’ve never actually been stung by a wasp before, and I don’t even think this one got me properly, because it didn’t hurt much. I figured he must have been either dying or hibernating, as he didn’t look very lively, so I thought I would leave him for a bit and deal with removing him later. I went back to the painting I was working on.
A short time later, I heard the unmistakeable drone of wasp wings. I turned around and saw that the wasp had now truly woken up, and appeared to be on the hunt for revenge. I backed out of the studio and hovered in the doorway, wondering what to do. I watched as the wasp rose up to the ceiling, and buzzed around in furious, whirling circles. It knocked into the light fitting and, to my fascinated horror, got caught up in a spider’s web.
Briefly, the wasp struggled against the sticky strings, but then the spider darted out from its hiding place. It rushed across to the wasp and attempted to clasp it in its long, spindly arms, but the wasp fought back. In the next moment, the pair of them fell from the light fitting and hit the floor with an audible thump.
As they tussled on the rug, I looked around for my spider-catcher – an indispensable instrument that allows me to scoop up unwelcome guests and deposit them outside, unharmed. But on this occasion, it was not in its usual place. Then I spotted it – on my desk, on the other side of the studio.
I embarked on a journey across various table-tops, like Indiana Jones on his rope ladder, afraid that the wasp would break free of the spider and somehow fly up my trouser leg (happened to a friend).
I swiped the spider-catcher. By this time, the spider had vanished – perhaps having decided that this particular dinner wasn’t worth the effort. I dropped the spider-catcher over the wasp and kicked shut the little trapdoor. After I’d released the wasp out of the window, I had to go and make a cup of tea and have a little sit down.
Despite his crabby demeanour, I had to admire the wasp for his fierce tenacity. I know a lot of us are battling with challenges at the moment. But, maybe you can keep this wasp in mind, and know that everything will be alright in the end.
