Who you gonna call? Bee Blasters!

Okay, when we bought our house, we had the inspection done and the guy found bees---we knew that. We could see them too, swarming one of the pillars on the porch. So at closing, they had to have a bee keeper come out and get rid of the thousands of bees that had invaded the attic and outside pillar of the home. No big deal--they were all gone when we moved in. Gauranteed. 1 year warranty that they would not return.

So after mom tells me we have a bee problem, I didn't think much of it, other than "one more thing for Adam to do tomorrow." I leave to go to Conroe for my bride/groom's rehearsal, Jackson goes to Grandma's, and Adam is still at work.

I get a phone call while I'm on 45N from my neighbor:
"Do you know that you have hundreds of bees on your porch?"
"There weren't that many when I left, but if you will watch for Adam and Jackson and make sure they go in the garage, I'm sure Adam will spray them later tonight."
"No, you don't understand, they are everywhere and have made a diamond shape thing on your pillar."

Great. I have no clue what she's describing, but I'm pissed that it's one more thing to deal with--Jackson's shots, Adam's root canal, FedEx (can anyone else throw salt in the wound)

Adam gets home, calls and says, "There are now thousands of bees." I am helpless since I'm in freaking Conroe, so Adam and my Mom and my Dad get on the internet and start researching how to get rid of a MASSIVE PILE OF BEES.

I get home at 10:00pm and find this:


3" thick, a HUGE hive of bees, hibernating quietly. No buzzing, no swarming, nothing. So my mom calls and my dad is pumped up about getting rid of these bees. At 10:30, they head over to my house, armed with Raid and Bee Suits. Adam is all dressed out in warm up pants, a hooded sweatshirt and rubber bands on his wrists and ankles; my dad is in the same. Oh, and leather work gloves. My mom is armed with a spot light across the street, and I'm in the house watching for any bees that come in the house (Jackson is sleeping) At this point, we've drawn a crowd because my neighbors have been watching these bees all afternoon (one has even driven through my yard honking his horn, thinking they were African bees and that they would follow his truck away from the house--so now I have BEES and TIRE TRACKS!) Dad and Adam grab their 2 cans of Raid each--one killer, one fogger (in case the bees swarm) and I grab the video camera! Of course!



The funny thing, those bees didn't move. They just fell off in clumps--dead. But, no more bee problem! And Grandpa Scott has a new nickname--Bee Ray Schroer, AKA Bee Smoker!