The need was Raid.
Wasp spray, to be exact.
So, I packed up my jitters and tootled on down to Target.
Found the stuff, bought the stuff (in self-checkout, no less… always a risky maneuver for us panicky folk), came home and used the stuff.
Voila! Dead bugs and accomplished Chloe. All should be good, right?
Those jitters I packed up before? Well, they didn’t appreciate the confinement. Came out of the trunk all crabby, peevish and… (wait for it)… waspish.
Bottom line: Irony sucks.
Until Monday (travel day tomorrow)…