A friend told us about a lovely “prayer walk” behind the church where Sue goes to preschool. We seized the moment and scampered down the rough path. Almost immediately, Joseph discovered a gully with “frog caves” and probably 30 small frogs hopping about; he of course caught one and carried it around through the path. Next we encountered an extremely large spider web with a fascinatingly-large web gorging on a cricket.
(It doesn’t get better than this if you’re seven.)
Soon after this, we found a box turtle with yellow eyes and long toenails. All in all, it was a great nature walk and we exclaimed again and again how we wanted to return with Edward and possibly Daddy and maybe fish in the small pond we had found, etc. We picked Sue up from preschool shortly after this, came home and had lunch.
As I was encouraging Sue to try to princess potty, I noticed a very small creature crawling on her arm. At first, I thought it was a small spider, but at close inspection, believed it was a baby tick! I showed it to Joseph who immediately proclaimed with great authority that it was a “lime star” tick and very deadly. We had to run get Edward from school but planned to “Google” the tick after we got home.
I had a few minutes in the car pool line so I called a friend to chat. So here I am, chatting away, so proud of being early in the carpool line, happy for having my school magnet appropriately displayed on the Town & Country, when I look down to see a tiny speck crawling on my pink pants.
“Oohh, Kelly,” I tell my friend, “I think there’s a tick crawling on my pants!”
She, of course, is appropriately horrified. I squint in an attempt to see it, unroll the window and flick it out. I keep prattling on, only to look back down at my pants and scream “Ticks! Ticks are everywhere!” upon which Joseph scrambles out of the booster seat to bellow in my ear, “They’re all over your arm, and your back, too-Mom you’re covered with them!”
I throw down the cell phone and leap out of the car in front of the entire car pool line of probably 40 cars and begin frantically brushing off the ticks. Immediately, all I can feel is this crawling sensation everywhere, and I mean everywhere! Of course in the middle of my frantic tick eradication, the kindergartners emerge and the cars begin to creep forward.
I have no choice but to get back in the van, ticks and all, and pick up Edward. I flip the switch to open the side van door but Edward, never one to hurry, simply flops forward, backpack still attached to his back, into the floor of the van like some weary turtle. I yank him forward and close the door.
At home, I hastily get Edward and Sue settled in front of a video (read Bobby) while I scream for Joseph to jump in the shower because during the van ride home, he too has found himself covered. I scrub him down and begin picking these tiny beasts off his back and shoulders.
H, of course, is in some important company-wide meeting that only happens once a year and can’t really be contacted. I text him the clear message “Ticks are everywhere, please call!” and then rush myself off to the shower where I actually use his hair color-destroying shampoo figuring that might kill the ticks more effectively than my gentle Aveeda.
H arrives, about an hour later, complete with a greenish dog shampoo and flea/tick spray. I emerge a few minutes later, smelling like a very clean German shepherd, only to live through a slightly humiliating tick search during which he picks about 20 attached ticks from my body. (I mean, he’s watched me give birth three times, but still…)
The good thing is I got a new area rug out of the deal because those ticks were burrowed so deeply and we feared further propagation!