Little Jason came running to me with arm extended. He was very excited. “A bug, Mom, a bug!” Sure enough, there was a suspicious looking black object between two fingers.
I cannot be blamed for what I did. So what that I grew up in the country, I still don’t like bugs ON me. I threw everything that was on my lap in the air and fled, squealing and tripping as I went. “No, I don’t want the bug; I don’t want it!”
I scared my poor boy so badly that he threw the bug and cried and cried. I tried to make it better. Really I did!
“Come on now, it’s okay. Mommy doesn’t want the bug. Find it and put it in the trash.” And he did! What a good boy. If this is the beginning of many similar gifts…I may lose sleep at night!