I fail to understand the point of insects.
Some insects, I suppose, have a purpose, but only insomuch as they are there to keep down the population of other insects. Ladybirds, for example, dispose of greenfly, which is a point strongly in favour of their existence. Britain apparently suffered a greenfly invasion this summer, specifically located in my parents’ back garden.
It’s a lovely evening to sit outside and have a beer and listen to music, someone would suggest. And so we would go out and sit down, and immediately be covered from head to toe in greenfly. It’s a lovely evening for sitting indoors and looking out, someone would suggest shortly afterwards, watching a greenfly performing a leisurely backstroke in a glass of beer.
It was horrible. But then, apparently, the superior insects arrived and got rid of the greenfly, whose only purpose in life is to destroy plants and irritate humans. And then the wasps arrived.
Sodding wasps. They are everywhere, EVERYWHERE. Mostly in our bathroom, incidentally, for some unknown reason. But also walking up and down the stairs, crawling around in the garden, and playing tag with the bemused cat. The average wasp death rate in our house at the moment is about 5 per day, as they are simply wandering around looking waspish and evil and making no effort to fly away.
And then this morning I got out of bed and hopped about as I pulled on a pair of jeans, and immediately felt the searing pain in my little toe, letting me know of the unwanted intruder before I even saw it. I howled indignantly and shook the thing off my foot, hurling a few understandably harsh words at it as it squirmed around on the floor. It looked mad. I was madder. I am the type of person who tries not to get too wound up upon sighting a nearby wasp, by telling myself that it can’t really hurt me. It’ll just be a little sting, if it comes to the worst, it’s not worth panicking about, it won’t hurt that much.
It feckin’ well does.
Then there were the mosquitos, last year, which left me with welts over my legs as they attacked me and extracted my blood as I slept. I still have a few scars. And now my foot is frozen, since the only way I can bear the pain of the wasp sting is to keep an ice pack pressed against it. I think I now have frostbite, to add, erm, injury to injury.
What is the point of these creatures? What good do they do? Why do they exist? Are they devil’s creatures, here to inflict pain and suffering, continuing to illustrate the raging battle between Good and Evil, lest we become complacent? Bees, at least, do good deeds. Were it not for bees, we would not have Pooh Bear ice cream or Cadbury’s Crunchies. Bees only attack in self defence. I am at peace with the bees. Wasps and mosquitos, on the other hand, do no good. They seek you out just to hurt you.
Why has no one come up with a plan to eliminate them from the face of the Earth? It is time to reclaim our planet. We’re meant to be superior. Somebody, do something. I’m in too much pain to come up with a plan right now.