Wednesday afternoon, I get out the trailer so my Granddaughter and I can go for a spin around the neighborhood. Its a beautiful day, heavily overcast, with a moderate breeze. The Granddaughter is yelling from the Trailer "faster Bopbop, faster" and squealing with laughter when I get another wasp up my shirt sleeve. Now my normal reaction would be to slam on the brakes, rip the helmet, glasses and T-shirt off in front of God and all creation to get the offending wasp out. However, I can't do this with the Granddaughter watching, she is terrified of bees. So I ride about a block down the road, calmly park the bike and squash the sucker in my shirt. Damage done, I ride home to get some benedryl. The wife looks at my back, that little @(*&^% got me eight times. SO I immeadiately ordered 2 jerseys (never worm one before), and now (until the jerseys arrive) wear rubber bands on my sleeves so I don't have to worry about the wasps.