Jack: What’s that noise!?
me: The cicadas are back. It’s a bug that comes out every 17 years.
Jack: Comes out of what?
me: The ground. Right now those cicadas you hear are trying to find a mate to have more babies that will come out of the ground 17 years from now.
me: The babies live underground eating tree roots for 17 years. Then they hatch in the millions, shed their skins and then they try to find a mate too.
Jack: That’s all they do?
me: Pretty much. They live just long enough to mate and have babies, then they die.
Jack: That’s a heck of a life cycle!
me: People are the same, except we live longer and do more stuff in between. Like summer camp ha ha. But basically we want to have babies and see those babies grow up to have their own babies.
Jack: Ugh! What’s the point?
me: To keep your own species alive. That’s it.
Jack: Humans live longer so they can screw up all the other life cycles while they’re waiting to figure out their own.
me: Did the bug spray work?
Jack: I don’t know.
me: (Sigh) Are the bugs all in your face?
Jack: No, but you are.
I don’t mean that in a bad way… 🙂
I just put Jack to bed. For the 3rd time. Anyone else having nights like this?
Jack: Mom, I’m afraid!
me: Aww, there’s nothing to be afraid of! (I thought the Calvin and Hobbes “monsters under the bed” cartoons were finally getting to him.)
Jack: Yes there is. They’re going to do a finger prick to get blood at my 7-year-old checkup!
me: Jack, that’s like 7 months away…
Jack: But I don’t like it! I would rather get another shot than do a finger prick.
me: Maybe we can ask them to take blood from your arm instead.
Jack: A finger prick IN MY ARM??!!!!
me: Sigh. No I mean, use a needle, since you’re not afraid of those anymore.
Jack: Oh. Can they do that?
me: We can ask. Why not? Most kids are afraid of the shots and not the finger prick. You’re the opposite.
Jack: I’m always the opposite.
me: Tell me something I don’t know.
Jack: If they don’t allow blood to come out of my arm, we’re getting out of that place and you’re driving me home.
me: Okay. It’s a deal. (Can they take blood from your arm?? I think it’s just from your wrist, right? Ah, crap. Well I have 7 months to work this out.)
Jack: Okay, thanks…
me: (almost made it out of the room)…
Jack: I feel nauseous and I don’t like counting sheep and I’m not tired!
But alas, I finally did make it out alive. Jack’s going to be tired tomorrow. He woke me up at 5:39 today. So actually I’LL be tired tomorrow.
And for those of you (2) that participated in my basil pooping plant contest, Ha, I will now show you the answer to the mystery. What are the little drops that keep falling off my cut stems of basil? Hmm?? HMMMM!!???
Caterpillar poop! Or pooplets as the case may be. See??
Deal with it. I’m not a contest organizer. And if any of you know anything about caterpillars, he turned white in the last day. WTF. Is he turning into a moth or something? We have a butterfly house. Should we stuff him and the basil in it? Keep him as a pet? Should I let him go? Ahhhhh!! Is this inhumane???
Earlier this week…
me: Aww, Jack this carpenter ant is still alive. I think Bella mangled him. (Shut up. Yes I save carpenter ants.)
Jack: Awwww, poor little guy!
me: Should we kill him and put him out of his misery?
Jack: NO! Is he going to get better?
me: I’m afraid not. He might be suffering.
Jack: Let’s put him outside in a comfy spot and he’ll die on his own.
me: Do you think that’s better than helping him so he doesn’t suffer?
Jack: That’s always better. You have to die on your own Mom.
me: Really? I always want to help.
Jack: We’re not supposed to help.
Jack was very convincing. We placed the ant in a shady spot on the deck. When we came back a few minutes later he was curled up and dead. The ant. Jack said “See? He did it on his own.” I once hit a squirrel with my car, very severely, and I went back to “finish him off”. It was just about the most sickening thing I’ve ever done. Should I have left him there? Even I’m learning things from this little 6-year-old.
There are a lot of kids I know, or that Jack knows, that fall into one of these categories: a) afraid of bugs and critters, b) kill bugs and critters if at all possible, c) try to make all bugs and critters their friends and keep them as pets and inadvertently kill them, d) allergic to bugs and critters.
Luckily, LUCKILY, Jack is none of these! None! I think once when he was mad at me he pretended that he was going to squish an ant, and then felt so bad about it he cried his eyes out. My kind of man!
Between the two of us, we can’t get enough of being outside, taking hikes, studying little bugs and animals that we find in the woods, etc. Jack now says he wants to be a scientist and he’s always carrying around his magnifying glass and walkie-talkie. If I could only get him to say “over” when he’s done talking… SIGH! The other day, Jack went to our neighbor’s birthday party. She had a critter van pull up! Jack is still talking about the spiders and the one gecko that climbed his shirt. I wasn’t there, but I found out through photos that he even had a boa constrictor (python??) wrapped around his neck at one point. GASP!
Jack: The gecko’s name was Roxy. She was a jumper!
me: Did he climb your shirt? (Jack was wearing a shirt with the NYC skyline on it, so it looked like the gecko was climbing the building)
Jack: Uhhh, it was a SHEEEEE.
me: Sorry. Did SHE climb your shirt?
Jack: Didn’t you just see the picture? I think you know the answer.
me: Jack I’m just making conversation over here.
Jack: Less yacking and more packing.
me: (thanks for teaching him that, Dad) We’re not packing anything.
Jack: Well then just less yacking.