Fear, Hatred, and Unexpected Mercy

I had a near death experience last week. This occurred mid-afternoon when I was in the middle of my (somewhat) daily chore routine. 

I was washing a load of towels when I saw this:

Just crawling around in the washing machine, nbd.

And then I was all...

So, I did what anyone would do in that situation. I proceeded to throw bleach on him. It was the closest weapon I could find, and they were old towels anyway. But the washer was almost full, so there was a nice little lake for him to crawl into to wash off. Yeah, didn't know wasps could breathe under water. But this little guy just strutted down in there like "Oh, you're pouring bleach on me? Watch this!" I was furious. So I said to myself, "Fine. I'll just put you through the spin cycle a couple times and see how you like that!" 

About 40 minutes later, I loaded all of the towels into the dryer, and each towel got a good shake to dislodge Waspy's dead carcass. But he was nowhere to be found. I lifted up the very last towel and there he was...ALIVE!!! Not just alive, but crawling around like a madman. Or madbug. Or whatever. I freaked out, slammed the lid closed, and decided to wait for my trusty husband to come home to dispose of it. 

I tried to go about my day, but the thought of that little creature making himself at home in my washing machine kept nagging at me. And what if he got out somehow?! After checking on him three or four times, I decided enough was enough, and I was going to extricate him. Trying to kill him obviously wouldn't work, so I settled for the next best thing. Trapping him under a cup so Brandon could remove him when he got home. 

It took some tricky maneuvering, but I was somehow able to contain him on the counter under a nice clear tumbler with a very heavy book on top so I could keep an eye on him. Victory. Except he kept buzzing around in there and trying to get out. I watched him for a few minutes (from a safe distance), during which time I had the chance to think about the whole situation. Here was this teeny wasp (except he really was one of the fatter wasps I've seen) who had just survived toxic chemical exposure,  attempted drowning, and apparent suffocation (at this point he was laying on his back after significantly decreased activity). 

I had a sudden, albeit unexpected respect for the guy. If he can take all that in one day, the least I could do was to let him have a shot at whatever life he had ahead of him. So I decided to set him free, if he was still alive. Turns out he was still very much alive, and he flew off into the sunset after being furiously shaken from the piece of paper that was separating the two of us. 

And thus ends my battle with Waspy The Indestructible. I learned a lot and I believe it has made me stronger in the end. Hopefully he thinks twice before entering another person's home again.