The Hornets Nest

It’s 11:00 and time for bed. I’m jumping into the shower when I hear Brett say he is going to go outside and spray the hornets nest we found out by the firepit. Thirty minutes later, I snuggle into bed wearing my favorite jammies. The house is finally cooling off after a sweltering day and the clean sheets feel cool and crisp. I get my body pillow into the perfect position and begin to drift off into sweat oblivion.
“Pst! Andrea, I need your help with something.”
Lazily, I offer up an eyelid. Then another. Standing before me is what I assume to be my husband only because I recognize his voice. He is wearing sweatpants, a sweatshirt, knee boots and thick rubber gloves up to his elbows. I vaguely recognize the outline of a nose under the tightly drawn hood he dons.
I close my eyes again “I’m already asleep. Wake Josh up.”
“Come on! I just need you to hold a flashlight.” The man is practically vibrating with excitement and I must admit, I am a bit curious, if not horribly fearful, as to what on earth he could be up to now.
Begrudgingly, I throw on a robe and my slippers.
“No, you have to get dressed.”
“Why?”
“Because you might get stung.”
It is at this point that I realize that the man before me is actually wearing TWO pair of pants and TWO sweatshirts. This can’t be good.

When we get out to the firepit, I see a bucket of used motor oil and a shovel. Oh, this is really bad.
“What happened to just spraying it?” I say with a small glimmer of hope.
“Some might get away if I spray it. This is better. I’m going to use the shovel to knock it into the bucket then put the lid on. I just need you to hold the flashlight. Besides, I was out of spray.”
It is now that I begin to wish I had a second layer of clothing on and start to look around to make sure that nothing is in the way should the need to run screaming for my life occur.
Brett is still trying to figure out the logistics of placing the bucket in the perfect place when I see 2 hornets walking around the nest. I mention this to Brett.
“Sentinels! Turn off the light! Hide!”
I stifle a yawn as I click off the flashlight.
“They know we’re here,” he whispers “we’ll need to be careful.”
Oh brother.
After waiting a few minutes in the dark, we hazard a look. I must admit his enthusiasm is starting to catch on. All clear.
Brett gets back into position, but he just can’t seem to get the right angle.
He puts the shovel down. Looking up at the nest, he starts to pantomime the motions of grabbing it and throwing it into the bucket. You’ve got to be kidding me! Warningly I begin “Brett…” but it’s too late! With a small curse, he grabs the hornets nest throws it into the bucket then lunges for the lid and slams it down. It’s over in less than a second and he begins throwing his arms up in the air like a rodeo champ who just roped a calf.
I’m proud of my brave, strong man and join him in the whoops and hollers as we dance around the firepit.
An hour later, I’m back in bed with the lights out. We’ve already gone over the events of the night several times and are starting to drift off to sleep once again. Then, out of the darkness, Brett snickers. “The last thing they heard was ‘All Clear Sir’”.