Chuck went out with some friends Saturday night. After Junior went to bed, it was time to tear things up.
(You might want to send the kiddies away. This shit’s hot.)
First, I put on my pajamas. At 8:35 p.m. Then I got the lemon-scented Pledge out and dusted my bedroom. Then I settled into bed and slathered on some super gooey, banana-scented foot cream. I had a new David Sedaris book.
All was right in the world.
Then I heard the buzzing. I looked over and saw two bees zipping around my night table. They must have been drawn to the fruit cornucopia.
My perfectly rational mother's instinct kicked in. Junior has never been stung by a bee. If I didn’t kill these bees they could fly under his door and into his room, sting him and cause him to go into anaphylactic shock. His life was at stake.
I had to kill these bees.
But how? I didn’t want bee smush on my new book. I grabbed the Pledge from the night stand and doused the bees. They didn’t like that. I squirted them some more. They started dive bombing me. They were out for blood. I jumped off the bed so I could finish them off and that’s when it happened:
Gooey banana foot cream + Pledged hardwood floors = Mrs. Mullet slides face first into her dresser.
And ends up looking like this:
I know what you’re thinking: what about the bees? Did she kill them?
I don’t fricken know. They disappeared as soon as I started wailing. Despite my condition, I mustered up the strength to get on my computer and google “Does Pledge kill bees?” but I never got a definitive answer.
I did, however, discover that I’m not alone in my quest for an answer. Some stalwart made a video chronicling her Pledge + bee encounter.
Killer ending! A real knee gripper.
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.