A wasp has been flying in and out of the house in the last week or so, since we've had the front door open for the nice spring breeze. I had noticed that s/he likes to hover around the upper corner of the doorjamb. I figured s/he was just trying to figure a way out. I would talk to the wasp, tell her/him that inside was not the best place for a wasp to be, and to please go enjoy the outside. I know that we stupid humans make up these stupid rules, but wasps being outside is really better for all involved please.
I thought that worked.
Today I came home in the early afternoon from a meeting with our lawyers, opened the screen door, and up above my head was the wasp, at that same spot on the doorjamb.
The wasp was building a nest.
Wasp, wasp! I thought we had an understanding! Now you are building a nest in the worst possible place, and you don't understand what this means.
The nest was about as big as a thimble.
I waited for the wasp to leave, and I knocked the nest to the ground outside, and ground it under my foot. The nest was as fragile as dust.
I did not feel good about this.
I came in and sprayed cleaning solution on the doorjamb, hoping to kill whatever scent had attracted the wasp.
When we got ready to leave about an hour later, I opened the door, and there was the wasp.
There was the wasp, crawling around the spot where the nest was. I knew, I just knew s/he was screaming (at me), "Where's my nest? Where's my nest? My beautiful little grey paper nest, the sections angled just so...where is my nest?"
I begged the wasp to leave, but s/he wouldn't. S/he just kept circling there, grieving, and then I wondered if s/he was planning a new nest in that same spot.
So I killed the wasp.
And I cried.
And I still feel horribly guilty.