Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Well, ow! (Or a lesson in why a simple task may go ridiculously wrong!)

Let's set the scene:

Last night I was having a rough time of it with my UC. I don't really like to be around people when I'm feeling so shitty (no pun intended but funny and apt all the same!) but I have to take Tilly for a walk and thought I could cope. Possibly a mistake but that's neither here nor there for my story.

This evening, feeling infinitely better, myself, Tilly and my Dad went on a walk in our local park. The weather had been a mix of glorious sunshine and downpours all day meaning that Tilly hadn't been out for any exercise and was feeling a bit, well, excited! I was also excited about how much better I felt and that I had no ailments this eve.

We set off across the grass and into the woods, Dad and I keeping a sedate pace while Tilly darted around and possibly broke the sound barrier on many an occasion.

We got to the path to the beach and Tilly disappeared into the scrub trying to chase the bugs, squirrels, birds, deer, pterodactyls...

And then we came upon a stunning sight of the sea, as clear as glass yet mottled by the near setting sun blinking through the trees. Then, to give it a tiny bit of something more, a rainbow appeared on the land at the horizon.

Dad: Oh! Would you look at that view? I wonder if I could take a picture? *Starts fiddling with his phone.*

Tilly: *Bounding from the undergrowth* Look at me! Look at me! I found some giant pieces of spiky plant seed that are now stuck to my legs! Wait - I don't like them! Get them off! Get them off!

Me: Silly Tilly. Come and I'll get them off for you! *Picks them from her legs and notices a wasp in her tail.* Oooh, oooh, Dad, help!

Dad: *Mumbling* Pretty view. Cameras. Golf. iPhones. Jaffa Cakes.

Me: Help me!!

Dad: Oh! Sorry, I wasn't listening. Did you see the lovely... no, right - what can I do?

Me: Could you take that stick and try to flick the wasp from her tail while I hold her still, please? *Indicates stick to be used*

Dad: Ready? Steady? Go! *Flicks stick at Tilly's tail with an enthusiasm that was inappropriate to the situation.*

That's when time slowed down. I should have known something was up when everything started moving suspiciously like it was moving through treacle.

So, let's slow our story down too, for a quick lesson in sense. If you are flicking something off something else, where do you direct the flicking thing?

That's right - away from anything or anyone else!

Dad flicked the wasp right onto my leg.

Did I mention that I wear cut off joggers for walking in the summer? Because I do. A fact that Dad knows good and well.

Me: *Loud high pitched scream* It's on my leg, it's on my leg!

Wasp: Ha ha! Bare legs. *Stings*

Me: *Jumping around like a moron* It got me! It got me! I'm stung! Tell everyone I love them...

Dad: Cyclist coming.

Cyclist: *Whizzes down the hill while we all pretend that we're normal people in normal situations.*

Cyclist disappears.

Me: Owwwwwwww!

Dad: *Sheepishly/Grumpily* I didn't mean to flick it on your leg.

Me: *Very grumpily* That's neither here nor there. I must get to the sea. *Hobbles off towards the sea to wash my leg in salt water.*

After washing my leg in the sea, I hobbled back up the beach to where Dad was standing looking out to sea all Captain Sparrow like.

Dad: It is beautiful out there, isn't it?

Me: *Evil glare*

We walk back up the beach. Oh wait, Dad walks while I limp. Tilly bounds after some ravens.

Dad: Perhaps I just hit you with the stick? Or flicked you with my finger?

Me: *Unsubtle glare* Excuse me?

Dad: I mean, perhaps it wasn't the wasp. Perhaps it's just a scratch from the stick. *The poor thing doesn't even see the dangerous path down which he walks.*

Me: *Turning into the hulk* I can tell you by the pain that I. Have. Been. Stung.

Dad: Hmmmm.

Me: This is my first wasp sting - if I die, I'm coming back to haunt you! *Stomps hops away*

The walk continued and I managed to make it to the park gates without much pain (although I did keep getting sharp stabbing pain every now and then - should I be worried?).

As we reached the gates this happened:

Dad: Perhaps you did get stung - it does look quite red.

Me: Oh good - thank you! I'm sorry that my pain wasn't enough proof for you! *I don't even need to point out that this was sarcasm!*

Dad: Wasps can just land on you without stinging you, you know. *Nods sagely*

Me: *Through gritted teeth* Really?

So here I sit, my leg/ankle thing a little bit swollen, feeling a bit crap and about to go and put wasp stings into WebMD. If you don't hear from me for a while, I have fashioned a leg amputation device using flint and dods of wood and am now in the hospital. Whether that's the normal hospital or a mental health facility remains to be seen.


  1. Sorry to laugh but you tell such a good story. Dad was very sheepish when he told me about it if that's any consolation. But it probably isn't!

  2. I suspect that his sheepish attitude is more to do with the fact that he knows you would side with the correct person (that would be me!) than any form of guilt! I too will laugh - but not until the pain subsides!! ;)


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