August 19, 2003
My God, It’s Full Of Bugs
Our house is being terrorized by insects. Well, that’s not quite fair; they haven’t actually issued any demands, per se, but I figure it’s only a matter of time.
There are three (3!) different kinds of wasps who are currently fighting over our property, much in the same way that rival street gangs fight over, say, a basketball court. In the backyard we have some wasps that make a honeycomb-looking structure that is deceptively bee-like, except they don’t fill it with honey, they fill it with baby wasps. In the front yard, there are Mud Daubers up on the porch, which proves, in my mind at least, that most insects are stupid. Now, first, we scrape all the mud off the wall every day, yet they continue to return to that particular spot on the porch. Secondly, they live in mud, right? So why bother to painstakingly haul that mud, mouthload by mouthload, up eight feet. Why not just live in the ground?
On the other side of the house, a group of wasps have done just that. I have no idea what kind of wasps live underground, but I tend to think of them and the Mud Daubers as being in a kind of Morlock and Eloi dichotomy, so they can be the Morlock wasps.
I didn’t discover the Morlock wasps until a few days ago when I went to mow the lawn. They were quite displeased with the mower. I sympathize with them the most–I don’t care for the lawnmower either.
Then we have the box elder bugs. These are small red and black bugs that seem to divide their time evenly between mating and getting into my water glasses. (They have not, to my knowledge, combined these two pursuits, but among such a freely loving species it’s inevitable.) Because of the former, I’ve taken to calling them sex bugs. Because of the latter, I’ve taken to killing them as much as possible, in the futile hope that I might actually be able to finish a glass of water.
I got back from a camping trip with my Dad, uncles, and cousins yesterday. It’s the first time I’ve gone camping, and been relieved to get away from all the bugs.