Did I tell you how the week before we left on vacation my littlest got stung by six yellow jackets that had made a nest under the grill? Long story short, my youngest decided to check out the yellow jackets’ home and “pet” them. Suddenly at once I heard a murderous scream and racous crying and ran to my little boy’s rescue where I freaked out and called 911. Once the paramedics arrived, my son was completely over his hyperventilating and was more than happy to take his clothes off so the paramedics could see his body (they were checking him for more stings). To which my oldest who was home sick from school miraculously healed with a “Ha ha Mommy! I got you! I am really not sick!” right in front of said paramedics.
I was so ready to leave on vacation.
Our first stop: Monahans Sandhills State Park just west of Odessa, Texas. It was beautiful. The sand dunes were ginourmous. The skies spectacular. The weather…freaking hot.
The flowers were interesting and unique–something I had never seen before.
The yellow jackets loved these flowers sitting next to the water spicket. My youngest then decided to “pet” the yellow jackets again. Can you guess what happened? That kid never learns. I did learn and did not call 911 or the Park Ranger. I gave him a bandaid and told him to cut it out.
Bandaids cure everything.
Except they dont cure my fear of these…can you guess what this is?
That’s right: a tarantula. It was half baked laying one-third of its way up a huge sand dune. It was dead. That fact did not deter my youngest or middle child or oldest or husband to pick up the tarantula and play with it.
Nor did it deter them from picking up this huge hairy ant and probing it inside a cup. A red harvester ant bit me while on vacation and over a week later I can still feel it’s bite. What is up with boys and bugs? Someone tell me please.
Boys will be boys won’t they.
