Sing to the tune of "If You're Happy and You Know It"...

There's a hornet in my car, get it out!
There's a hornet in my car, get it out!
There's a hornet in my car, you know I ain't going far
When there's a hornet in my car
GET! IT! OUT!

I hate when flying stinging insects hitch a ride in my car. I am deathly afraid of those damn things. So, somewhere between IHOP and CVS, this little annoyance got in and couldn't find its way out. I heard it buzzing, and it took me back to a time in my past, when all of my boys were young, when one got into this decrepid station wagon Jon had bought (we called it the "John Deere" because it drove like one of those tractors going down the city streets in Virginia). There was a hole in the tailgate where a rear window wiper had been, and the kids and I were freaking out.

Back in the present, I opened both windows (Berettas were two door cars. Four door version was the Corsica), hoping the little bugger would find its own way out. After about ten minutes or so, it finally got a clue that there was a way out and left (at least I hope it did). I drove home, relieved that my little stowaway was gone off to polinate flowers somewhere far away from me.


That's all from where I sit.

--MorelaterZ--