An Open Letter to the Nest of Yellow Jackets in Our Yard

Dear Sirs and Madams,

I realize we got off to kind of a rough start. I was completely oblivious to your presence before running your nest over with the lawnmower. As soon as I realized what was happening I tried to move away and let you have your space. I would have taken the lawnmower with me, but you were swarming all over it and quite frankly I just can't deal with you when you're that mad (that's right, I could see you swarming from all the way in my house). I mean, really, how many hours did it take you to calm down? It wasn't until that night when you were finally ready to go to sleep that you were willing to let the whole thing go, and even then I'm not sure that you were really letting go as much as just too exhausted to swarm anymore. 

I know I upset you, but you really did take things too far. I got away as quickly as I could and tried to defuse the situation, but you just couldn't leave it at that, could you? Oh no; you had to get a parting shot in. Even though I was perfectly willing to just walk away, one of you hid in my pants or shoe and stung me on my ankle. You came into my home and hurt me. I might even be able to let this go if I were the only one involved. You hurt me, and maybe I deserved it, but I've also got Melissa and the boys to think about. So, I'm afraid that this has to be it for us. I want my stuff back, and I want my yard back. I'm sorry it came to this, but you left me no choice. I hope you don't mind all that poisonous foam that's filling your front door (and your entire nest, with any luck). No hard feelings; I just can't let you hurt me again.

I hope you die,

Craig

P.S. We just had a flood, why couldn't you just die then and save us both the trouble?