A Place Where Bugs Fly

Yesterday we went to the National Zoo, just me and the crazies with my sister in law and her two children. We stayed the night at her temporary apartment so we could get up early enough to head on out and get parking at the metro. When the Girl woke up she was a total grump and had a runny nose and was not happy. I could not get her to eat, I could not get her to do anything. Eraser Eater soon pranced out of the room wheezing and said, "I need my inhaler. Do you have it?" Of course, I whipped out my purse and did not have it. I switched purses at some point this week and discovered what an idiot I am. So what do I do? I took him into the bathroom, blasted the shower on hot and left him in there with the doors closed. "BREATHE!" I said, over and over.

I was fit to be tied at this point. At least my sister in law's kids were well. Good grief, it was pulling teeth. The Oldest had not even gotten up yet, so I went to get him up just hoping that he was well enough (who knows at this point) to help me. He was lying flat on his face. I smacked his rear end a few times and said, "Time to get up!" He jumped out of bed, all chipper and said, "I am up! I am up! Just let me get my glasses on!"
"I need your help today," I said.
"I can help, I can help," chirped Mickey Mouse. He literally screamed when he saw that his Aunt was making cinnamon rolls and there I was, about to choke him. To add insult to injury, his legs were pulsating with poison ivy rash still and I was feebly rubbing ointment on them while he dined on a few rolls. The Girl sat in a chair and sulked, sniffing. Eraser Eater had left the bathroom, still wheezing.
"I have another solution for you," I said to the eraser eating freak.
He complied as I pushed his head into a sink, blasted the hot water, and made a tent with a towel over both the sink and his head. I stood there and instructed him to take deep breaths for a few minutes.

I then went to the Girl to get her to eat two bites of a Nutrigrain bar, but she fought me tooth and nail. Granted, I gave her Benadryl and she lacked adequate sleep the night before, but I was about to have her head. Eraser Eater ate a few rolls himself once he could breathe a little, and then whined about not having socks to wear. It went on like this for what seemed like an eternity, but it was only a matter of ten minutes. We did get out the door to the Zoo and finally got there and stayed for maybe four hours. We did have fun, and the kids forgot their ailments and just begged for water and snacks the whole time. We probably walked at least eight miles total.

The one scene I remember most was when we went to the invertebrates room. As you guys right well know, my Oldest is afraid of bugs, mainly flying ones. He is ridiculously afraid. We got through the whole exoskeleton room of various forms of sea life and land life, and then upon exiting, we had to get out by walking through what was called a "pollenarium" (I think). Eraser Eater had pulled me over to look at a scorpion while everyone else was headed to this place. Apparently when I got there The Oldest was standing at the entrance saying, "I am NOT going in there." Eraser Eater ran on through with the rest and I stood there trying to think of what he was saying to me. I had lacked an adequate amount of water, I could not calculate simple sums at this point, and I lacked just regular sense. It was slow, in other words. I looked at the sign again. "Pollenarium" it said. Huh. I looked through the doors. Oh yes. A wealth of butterflies, dragonflies, bees, you name it, were flying around in there, hovering over an abundance of flowering trees, bushes, flowering plants, etc. The Oldest's shoulders went up to his ears in utter fear and he stood at the entrance. "I can't go in there!"

I took him out the way we came and met the others outside the building.

On the long way home The Oldest was rubbing coins together in his hand in the passenger's seat.
"Quit doing that," I said sternly.
"Quit what?" He continued to take the quarters, put them on either side of a rusty penny, and say, "Look, {Eraser Eater} I have a coin sandwich!" He acted like he was going to put it in his mouth.

I wearily grabbed his wrist and said, " Quit. That is disgusting."

"What is disgusting?" He waved the coins around my head and laughed. "You don't want coins floating around your head?" The fact that my own kid was torturing me with one of my own Room 101's had me ready to give him a good Charlie Brown sock. And I mean a sock in the face.

"Ok. Let's play fair," I said. "We can always turn around and take a little trip in the pollinarium."

He let out a humbled, small, unintelligible cry and put his coins in his pocket. Satisfied Mickey Mouse had deflated, I drove on and almost fell asleep at the wheel, no joke.