Figuring I should be a good mom and conscript the children into forced labor in the not quite boilingly hot outdoors we went out to clear brush, move wood, and other such necessary home ownerly tasks. They are good boys, so there was no complaining about the conscription. Everything was going smoothly, although I did realize I probably should have had coffee, pain killers and a muscle relaxer first.
Then Little Bear stepped on a ground wasp nest. Well, more specifically, he stepped on the unstacked wood pile near where his brother had been working and the wood pile settling seemed to have started demolition proceedings on the nest. Needless to to say neither ground wasps nor Little Bear were at all pleased with this and much screaming and running about ensued.
This isn't the first time Little Bear and I have dealt with ground wasps. Several years ago we had an altercation with them when his school was on a hike so we already knew this was going to suck. I had him run into the house with them chasing him and then got his brother and myself into the house without any of the flying sadists. I had Little Bear strip off his pants on the back deck because that is where they had decided to go after him, straight up his pants... He was then sent to the kitchen. No tagalongs yet, but at least two bites and much screaming and tears.
A friend had just stopped by to pick up someone and offered to help so I had them go search for plantain while I found baking soda. They didn't find any, but in the meantime more screaming ensued. It turns out Little Bear had managed to bring one of his new friends inside with him and said friend was busy doing all sorts of damage through his sweatshirt! Like any good mom would do I panicked and tried to remain calm (yah, right) and got a paper towel and squished the guts out of the nasty bugger. Then we stripped everything off of him just to make sure he was bug free.
After coating him with baking soda, counting about 5-7 possible welts, and finding out our wasp death spray was empty, I went off in search of plantain partially because I knew Little Bear wouldn't be consoled until I found it even with advil and icepacks and partially because plantain really is a miracle cure for stings. I knew there was some at my older son's school so that is where I went, still no coffee and in my house grubbies and bra-less because, you know, that's what moms do.
I came home with handfuls of leaves, way more than I could possibly need, to find him still standing in the kitchen with icepacks, flaked off baking soda littering the ground around him, clutching his special stuffies, and still crying. I poulticed him up in the ancient fashion of chopped and pounded leaves covered with bandaids. Turns out there were only three real welts left after we washed off the baking soda. I'm drying the rest of the leaves I hastily harvested in case this happens again. Then we will get the chance to learn if dried leaves even work.
Then I cleaned the kitchen and had coffee. Definitely need to remember coffee before ground wasp attack next time, if there is a next time. Little Bear seems intent on no longer interacting with nature unless forced at gun point, but I deal with that particular issue once he heals.
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