Sara and I are yard-caretaking novices, seeing as how we haven’t actually had one of our own until this past November. I’m learning how to mow, Sara’s learning how to grow flowers and keep our stucco clean. Because we’re new at this, we don’t pick up on subtle clues that might indicate larger problems. For example, after
Maggie’s epic battle with the wasp…
Experienced yard-having person: We have a wasp nest somewhere. We need to take care of this immediately.
Sara and Brett: Huh, must be some sort of freelance wasp, unaffiliated with any larger nest. Good thing Maggie killed it, that should end our wasp problem altogether.
As it turns out, we had nests. Several. Sara was spraying the exterior stucco clean when she sprayed one of the nests. Why this didn’t result in an all-out wasp attack, I have no idea. Perhaps our wasps are complete idiots. They buzzed around for a bit, agitated but not interested in tracking down the culprit. Meanwhile, we walked around the house and managed to spot five of the seven nests (more on the other two later.)
So we stall for a few days before we finally decide we probably shouldn’t wait on the first snowstorm to kill them off. I go to the store and buy wasp killer, along with some Super Glue (to fix a book spine I broke) and some beer (to drink).
Checkout Guy: Looks like you’ve got quite an evening ahead of you.
Me: Yes. I’m going to get drunk, kill some wasps, then glue them together.
We accomplished none of those things that night, but we did go out the next night to attack. I had the cans, while Sara was in charge of holding the backup cans and spotting wasps. The nest-suffocating foam fell off in large clumps and failed to cover the nests, but the long-distance liquid spray did the trick. Also, it was pretty fun to drench the nests. So, case closed. The wasps are no more.
Except we missed two nests.

I was getting ready to take the trash to the curb Monday morning when I got tapped on the head. I turned around and saw a wasp hovering nearby. It went over to land near the heretofore-unseen nests. One was absolutely covered with wasps. They were all just chillin’. Apparently, the one wasp that hit me was just sending the message, "Hey, not interested in stinging you for now, but check out this awesome hive. Also, leave."
Message received. I left the trash there and carefully shut the gate. At least that’s how I think it happened. I might have also made some spastic, instinctive wasp-avoision moves in the process.
So, to thank the wasp that gave me advance warning yesterday, I’m hereby giving advance warning to the nest: we have a new can of wasp killer ready to go. Please vacate your nest before tonight. You don’t have to die, but you can’t stay here.