As a small aside to my post on running with sticks, the two things I am most paranoid about in life are BEES and TICKS! ACK. Yes, I’m afraid of teeny tiny bugs but not bears, moose, split open heads, poked eyes and the like.
I started writing all this in response to Gina and decided it was a good time for a new post.
So, two days ago, while I was planting trees I made a “fort” out of a large bush with arching branches. I just shored it up with some long sticks so the kids could climb under.
Around dinner we headed inside and Scarfunkle (Thing 2) started complaining that he had a scab on his head and it was bleeding. Ugh!
Being the “medical expert” in my family I called him over to investigate. Daddy doesn’t do blood.
I started pulling back his blond curls trying to find this supposed scratch when the black butt of a bug with sticky outy legs came into view, clinging onto his head for dear life. My heart stopped for a second and I shot straight in the air, throwing my hands up with a ghasp. Then I started shaking all over. I hate those little boogars!
Trying hard not to alarm my son, thankfully still standing behind him, I squeezed his shoulders and said “Don’t worry, you aren’t bleeding. Daddy will take care of this and you’ll be good to go.”
I had to swallow repulsion and choke back some tears that tried to surface, SO so thankful that Matt was home. If I hadn’t been doing the grose out dance with my stomach churning in disgust for a good half an hour after the “sighting” I would have taken a picture and given a brave tutorial on removing the grose bugs. Sorry to say I would truly cry if I had to take care of one without my husband home.
As it was I had to remind him to kill the sucker. He easily plucked it off without ever having to tell Scarfunkle what was going on but smartie pants that he is, he let the crazy bug live and simply threw it into the garbage!
I questioned the wisdom to which he said “Hon, it’s fine.”
Not being able to control my fear of a repeat visit from Mr. Tick I peeked into the garbage and just as suspected he was crawling back up the side of the bag.
Matt finally put me out of my misery (not really LOL) and killed the sucker.
Here is a funny side note. I lived in Idaho for 22 years, playing outside and camping in the woods and never once saw a tick or had one on me. Then when I got married I moved to California and in my first year there had one attach to my leg (which sent me into near hysterics) and had to get my hubby to pluck numerous ones from my dog. Since I’ve been back in Idaho (5yrs) this is my first encounter with one of those disgusting little bugs on a person in my family. We’ve had them occasionally on the dogs. So my fears are near unwarranted but oooooh do they make me squirm non-the-less.
Do you have any unexplained, possibly unreasonable fears? I don’t mean your deepest darkest, just those funny things that get your blood pumping that are mostly harmless.