Attack of the Killer Rock

Yesterday I took the kids to the park since it was in the 70's. Where do I live? Florida? California? Nope. An hour from D.C. Give me a break huh? So we went out and had a mini spring day. My daughter took the binoculars and ran around looking like Dora and the Oldest and Eraser Eater went their separate ways-- one to the see-saw and the other to find lizards. I think they literally thought it was summer again.

I went through a mini (I will use the word again) flashback of how horrendous last summer was because of my Oldest son and flying insects. He refused to go by the water (there is a lake by the park) because of possible dragonflies. There was not a bug to be seen for miles and he was wigging out again. "I'm staying right here!" he would yell. I gave up and went on the see saw with him for a bit and taught him my trick on how to make someone freak out and bounce. He didn't like the lesson because I did it to him a million times.

I got tired of the see-saw and moved on to see what the other two were doing by the water and they were taking sticks and pretending that they were fishing. I thought this was a good idea and got a massive branch and said to my oldest: "Look at this thing! You can be Huck Finn and fish with this thing!"

"Not by that water I'm not! That is where dragonflies go!"

I had to convince him that there weren't any dragonflies. To be honest, he was really enthralled with the massive stick. It was taller than me. He took it greedily and announced to the whole park that he was going to go fishing and begged where he could find a worm. I dallied around by the stream and found a worm but I did not touch it. I hate worms. Looking at them makes me sick. Kind of like metal. "I found a worm!" I yelled.

The voice of Mickey Mouse made its way toward me filled with glee and he GRABBED THE WORM from the ground. I almost screamed, but I realized that he was touching a bug like regular boys and this is good.

"So, uh, how do I put it on the end of my stick?"

"I guess you have to pierce it's flesh and stick it on that way," I said, a little unsure of myself.

"Ok." He tried. "It's slippy." It didn't work. "Oh well. I guess I could just take him and dangle him in the water and a fish would come to me." He cupped the worm in his hand. "He feels wiggly in my hand! I kind of like it!"

The thought of that made me feel a little green and pale, but I ignored it and went on.
Finally he decided that dangling the worm would not work so he just threw it in the water. A lot of good that did. All I could think about was hand sanitizer.

I got distracted after a spell and started looking in the binoculars. I saw the Oldest on a rock by the little stream-creek thing and then I saw him WALK THROUGH THE WATER. I about had a cow. That is when I took them home. They were all soaked from being ridiculous and walking through water rather than walking around. The lake water is filthy. Remember the dead duck? Yeah, you get my point. I had to wash everything when I got home. Sick.

Except when I got home the Oldest did not want to go inside. He approached the front porch and then ran screaming from it to the car again. Flash back of the past summer. He stood there, fingers on lip (worm infested fingers, mind you), trembling and crying his ten year old rear end off. "A big black bee! I saw it!"

"There is no bee."

"Yes! I saw it! It was by the rail! It was flying toward me! I will not go in until you kill it!" He was inconsolable, irrational, and petrified. Of nothing. There was nothing.

"No. There is nothing here. I will guide you. Let me take your hand."

"No! I saw it!"

"Look! THERE IS NOTHING! THERE ARE NEIGHBORS! THEY CAN HEAR YOU!" I said this in a loud whisper. Even shame does not shape him up.

"Is there...is there anything black around the porch?" He cried out in a whimper.

"Yes. A rock. A black rock."

"That must be it then."

"Yes. That is probably it. Now come on, and get inside."

He ran in like the devil was on his tail and took the sopping wet shoes off as fast as he could. He refused to go outside the rest of the day.

I can already foresee next summer...again. Ugh.