I was stung by a wasp for the first time ever yesterday. It gently landed on me, looked casually about, walked about five paces then stung the merry hell out of my forearm. Luckily, I had the speed of thought and presence of mind to let go of everything I was holding and attend immediately to this unprovoked attack. Regrettably, the thing I was holding was a pushchair with our daughter in it which, as we had been happily strolling around Greenwich Park, promptly accelerated down the hill away from the Royal Observatory. Oh how we laughed, as we chased frantically after her buggy, careering at high speed towards the carved stone pillars of the National Maritime Museum.
So anyway, I was stung by a wasp for the first time ever yesterday.
The absolute bastard.