Last Week Saturday

As usual I'm pitifully behind in my posting and this entry will  just amount to 'treading water'.

Last Saturday was my mother-in-law's 61st birthday and we headed over there to present our gift, which included loaning me out for yardwork that afternoon.

Two things of note occured.

First, on a lark I rode a bicycle for the first time in 21 years. I had stopped riding abruptly at 12, once the local ordinance's demanded I ride only in the street. Bleep that, I thought, and never rode again.

Not only was I shaky on the bike this past weeked, casting doubt on the whole 'it's like riding a bicycle' cliche, I didn't know how to brake BECAUSE I HAD NEVER HAD USED HAND BRAKES IN MY LIFE.

My trusty green and gold Schwinn had pedal brakes. I loved that bike. 

Then . . .

During the barbeque Parker began to scream. Lis yelled "Oh my God" and I turned to see my boy's legs covered in swarming ants.

As was later determined by group consensus, no one - not even my 69 year old stepfather-in-law - had ever seen the like of it in Milwaukee.

In Milwaukee, where there are no poisonous spiders or snakes and even the rats are well behaved.

I grabbed him and began brushing them off but they were crawling out of his diaper, his shirt, all over. I stripped him down and got him away from the lawn. A quick glance confrimed he had disturbed a huge ant hill. Not good when he had an ice cream sandwich in his hand.

Normally I forbid the kids from killing insects outside, telling them 'it's their house out here, you're just visiting'.

 But this time I put the word out: 'Kill at will!

For the next 15 minutes Parker clung to his Mother and I. I mean he was all but superglued to us, his fists clenched against our shirts. He began to have what I'd call a panic attack in an adult: difficulty breathing, sweats, terror stricken eyes.

For the rest of the day he refused to set foot on the lawn and banged away at the door to the house.

It was a disturbing incident on many levels.

Before we left I forced him to walk on the lawn, hoping to help him overcome his fear.

That night tho' he woke up at 2 a.m. screaming and swatting at his legs. For the first time in ages (a year or more) I carried him to our bed.

(Even then we didn't let him spend the night with us and moved him back around 4 am)

You wouldn't believe it from this post, but it was a pretty fun day with the family.