Funny Of The Day

I use the term funny very loosely, for I know that it was actually a heroic moment of bravery and courage.

Today we took a field trip to the Prescott Zoo with my mom and some of the kids cousins, very cute quaint zoo. Towards the end of our trip Matthew got stung by a wasp. He was screaming, "It Stung Me!". No, it was more like, "It Stung Me?". As if he couldn't believe that it was possible. It was his first sting so the screaming, tears, and life or death reaction was normal (I think). I decided that we should probably go.

We had to pass the same spot he was stung by the wasp to depart from the zoo. Matthew and I were up front and believe it or not he started screaming, "It Stung Me Again!" At this point I spotted the big, scary, ferocious, enemy. I distracted the wasp in my direction so Matthew could flee from the scene without further injury.

To my surprise the wasp started attacking me. At this point I began swinging my purse, flailing my arms, and I ran into a tree. This is the part that the on lookers thought was funny. Only, they didn't understand my strategy. They didn't understand that I was being perused by an angry assailant that wanted to cause me harm.

As I see it (because it did happen to me) I worked quickly efficiently and saved lives. If they only understood my dream to be a chick in a fighting movie, good or bad I don't care. I want to wear all black, carry a gun, have a vicious stride, and a look on my face that says, "Bring it on". I dream of that moment when it all comes down to me, some ninja moves, an awesome display of agility, and alas and ending with my foot on the guys chest, gun in his face, and some intimidating chick fighting words spilling from my mouth. That would be awesome!

I knew what it took to bring down the enemy. I had planned strategy. The peeps I was with may explain it as funny and say I freaked out, but NO, NO, they are mistaken. I had crazy eyes all over my head I could see that wasp coming from any direction, I knew exactly where to swing my purse and dodge my arms (the arms were dodging), I hit the guy three times with my purse and he kept coming back for more. So I decided to back into a tree and scrape and bruise my arm so he would think he won and fly away. Strategy, split minute decisions, and the dreams of chick fighter.

Because of my bravery the others made safe passage and no one else was harmed. I knew I saved them even if one of the would be victims (Spencer) was laughing histericly and saying I looked like a "Crazy Old Women". My only wish is that I could have saved the one that was still screaming and dramatically asking, "Why does the world hate me?" Those words of the victim are still ringing in my ears (literraly), I guess you can't save them all.

A heroine? I think so!