My sons are seasoned wasp hunters. A more responsible mother might make more of an effort to discourage this activity. Incredibly, though, neither has been stung during their hunts despite the fact that their arsenal does not consist of wasp spray, as one might think would work best.
The one weapon that seems to always be used is a very large wooden shield that their grandfather made for them. It is at least 2 1/2 feet tall with a handle in the middle. Daryl inexplicably uses the edge of it to grind wasps to their deaths in the yard. One day, he claimed to have killed 3 of them, with one left to track down.
Another day, they came into the house decked out in their full wasp-hunting attire: bicycle helmets, light sabers, and the ever present wooden shield. Daryl announced, “I got a good look at that black wasp. It has hair on its chest.” I guess this made it a more worthy opponent.
Most wasps meet their death when they encounter the dangerous wasp hunters, or so the hunters claim. One unfortunate “black wasp” faced a different fate. It was captured in a toy teapot and named “Blackie”. When I pointed out that Blackie could crawl out of the spout, Daryl shook his head very knowingly and declared, “No. He wouldn’t think of that. He’s not that smart.”
Certainly not as smart as young boys trying to kill stinging insects in hand-to-hand combat. Nor as smart as the mother who allows the adventures to continue. Blackie was, however, transferred to a more secure holding cell, where I believe he died while his captors attempted to figure out what and how to feed him.