So, I think I’ve mentioned a few times that I’m not a big fan of bugs. Marin however, thinks bugs are fun. Recently she was playing in the yard and yelled at me to come look.
Marin- “Mommy! Come look what I found!”
Me- “What is it?”
Marin- “It’s a bug! Come look!”
Me, not nearly as thrilled- “Ok, I’m coming.”
Marin- “Look! Look!”
Me, shocked and disgusted- “Oh my God! You have a cicada!”
Marin- “I know. It’s a great bug!”
I tried to be cool about the whole thing since she actually likes bugs but cicadas are scary. I immediately flashed back to the time years ago that my cat caught one and was trying to bring it to me. It was screaming in his mouth and clearly the cat thought he was contributing to the family with the bug present. I had no choice to run as the cat chased me with a bug.
Katie was playing on the trampoline yesterday. It was pretty uneventful until she came back inside all upset.
Me- “Katie, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Katie, shaking her head and clearly still shaken- “I was lying down on the trampoline and I thought there was a leaf under my hand. I started crunching in up but it felt funny and it wasn’t a leaf! It was a cicada! Yuck!”
Then I laughed and she rubbed her cicada hand on me. She spent the rest of the evening touching people and saying cicada hands. Marin spent the rest of the evening screaming and running.
Out of the blue, less than an hour after the bug incident, Claire let out a blood-curdling, horror-movie-style scream. She ran to me, still screaming.
Me- “My God, Claire! What happened?”
Claire- “I was picking up a shirt on the floor and I felt something on my hand and it was a CRICKET! It was climbing up right here!”
I swear, I really wanted not to laugh.
Monday, September 19, 2011
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1 comment:
I saw a bug this morning on my kitchen counter and predictably screamed a bloodcurdling scream that scared the squirrels living in a tree 4 miles away. So I get that. But, recently, I did see what I thought was a June bug so it could have been that cicada thingy...and it was lollygagging on its back, no place to go, too much time on its hands, so I kicked it so it could right itself and fly away. Wasn't going to kill it...who needs all that goo on the bottom of their shoe? I ask you.
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