The Bee Dilemma

For the last few weeks we’ve had a nest of bees establishing themselves in our front garden.  At first, I was like ‘No way, Jose!’  Nuh-uh.  No chance.  I tried to deter them a little by emptying an entire can of bee/wasp poison onto their hive and later pouring multiple kettles of boiling vinegar into their neat little bee hole.  It was total medieval castle warfare being waged right in my front yard.  But to no avail.  The bees posed to be a formidable opponent and kept insisting on returning.  No matter what I did, they insisted on returning and digging themselves in.

Hey, ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’, that’s what I always say.  Or was that Foghorn Leghorn?  Who cares, it still applies.

Anyway, I decided to let things be and see if we could coexist peacefully.  I called a truce with Mother Nature just as long as they kept to their side of the garden.  After all, it’s not like the bees taking up residence in the garden were posing any real problems just as long as they just kept to themselves.  I even tried to use the situation as a learning opportunity with HRH on how to not swat at them, or anger them and to just relax so that they just continue on minding their own business, collecting pollen, making honey, helping our garden grow and what have you.  We watched curiously as they dug out their little suburban neighborhood and reveled with fascination how tirelessly and diligently they worked.  It was like having a real Mutual of Omaha ‘Wild Kingdom’  episode playing out right outside our front door.  I half expected to hear Marlon Perkins describing in detail how bees transfer pollen and thereby fertilizing future generations of plants and flowers n’ shit each time I left the house.

However, we had an unfortunate circumstance occur today when my precious slumber was suddenly interrupted by a thoroughly freaking out eight-year-old child.  Turns out that one of these little winged bastards forgot their place and decided to zap poor HRH as she poked her head out the front door to check the weather this morning (why she just can’t look out the window or believe whatever it is she was told by her mom when she first inquires, like 3.2 nanoseconds after waking up I’ll never know).  And now the little fuckers have to die.

You know what this means then, right?  This means War.  Anyone one, or anything that threatens my happy little family is inviting holy terror on itself, so it’s ON  you little bee bitches.  Let’s see how you like bleach, about a tonne if course gravel and dirt and a huge ass rock placed on top for good measure.  Bring it!

God help them.

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