Maj comes to me with both hands held to her head, her face filled with concern, “There’s a weird bump on my head! Something’s wrong with my head!”
My first thought is of a tick.
I remember the first time I ever had to deal with a tick. Several years ago . . . Mark had taken the girls out to dinner without me. When they returned, Kallan walked in the door with these matter-of-fact words, “Daddy says I have a Mommy problem on my head.”
Snort!
She discovered the problem at some point during dinner, and had parted her hair to show it to Mark. Mark does not deal with bugs well, and he recoiled in horror and told her to leave it be. Mom would take care of it. And then they completed their meal as the bug burrowed its way into Kallan’s skull.
Mark is all awesome sometimes.
I managed to remove the tick from Kallan’s head, and then I placed the bug, still alive, into a Ziploc bag so that Kallan could examine it more closely.
She filled the bag with water, sentencing the evil bug to death by drowning.
Except it didn’t drown, it just swam about in the water all delightedly.
So Kallan carefully drained the water and then tried to smash the bug between her fingertips. Still in the bag, in case you were wondering.
Ticks are very difficult to smash between your fingertips, it turns out.
And they are also impervious to book whomping.
Kallan held up the bag, showed me that the tick was still walking around happily, “I don’t want a pet tick, Mom. What should I do with it?”
“You could just let it go in the field across the street.”
“Are you kidding me? It has a taste for me now. It will crawl all the way over here and come get me again. No, I want it dead. It attacked me and I want it dead.”
“Well, dead bugs are a Daddy specialty. What you’ve got there is a Daddy problem.”
And so she went off in search of Daddy, who was down in the garage.
Together, they released the bug onto a countertop. Watched it wander aimlessly about for a moment. And then they used the sharp end of a screwdriver to sever the bug’s head from its body.
A lovely daddy-daughter moment of insect torture.
“Ticky had it coming,” Kallan explained to me happily as she held up the two bug halves.
Ticky?
Snort!
Back to Maj’s face here in Lake Oswego, filled with concern, “Mother, something’s wrong with my head! What is this lump on my head?”
I lean in to examine the spot where she has parted her hair, and I see . . . nothing.
And so I say, “I don’t see anything, babe.”
She swipes frantically at her head, “Well, that’s just ridiculous! There is a lump on my head. What do you mean you don’t see it?”
I look again, but I see nothing. I run my fingers over the area she is indicating, and I feel . . . nothing.
“Maj? There’s nothing there.”
She tries to find the lump again, but it has apparently disappeared.
She brings her hands down, “I guess it’s possible what I felt was a leaf or a little stick or something. I was playing in the back yard.”
I turn back to my reading, “Well, there you go. Problem solved.”
Maj continues to stand next to me.
“Something else I can help you with, babe?”
“Yes, actually. Mother? When I jump up and down like this?”
And she jumps up and down several times, “When I jump up and down like this, I feel a little bit of pain right here in my face,” and she points generally to her face.
“OK, Maj? Remember that you sometimes have sinus issues with your allergies. That’s sinus pain. We have talked about this. My recommendation would be that for the time being? You stop jumping up and down like a loon.”
She stops.
I go back to my reading.
“Also? Mother? I have noticed again that the pupils in my eyes stay bigger than everyone else’s when the light changes.”
“Are you kidding me, Maj?
“So what you’re saying is that I worry too much about these sorts of things?”
“Yes, babe. You do.”
“Yeah, I thought so. But it’s OK if I come and ask you about stuff I notice?”
“Yep.”
“OK, I like to ask you. I don’t like to ask Daddy.”
“That’s alright, babe. Some things are Mommy problems. Daddy has other areas of expertise.”
She sighs with relief, “Exactly.”
Maj runs off to find Daddy.
She has a question about her soap box car.
And that?
Is a Daddy problem.
I’m so thankful I haven’t ever had to deal with ticks. The thought of them creeps me out. *shudders*
I love that Maj recognized her own paranoia, and asked for permission to continue to ask you questions. That is both funny and sweet at the same time.
Oh, and why is it that the mommy problems are usually the more serious ones? I guess though, I’d rather handle them than leave them to my husband. Tee hee.
And I am so overjoyed at being the first AND second comment that I’m just going to continue to play over here at Pretty All True until someone comes to play with me.
You?
Are silly.
Love that.
Ticks are disgusting.
And guess what?
We have two dogs who run all over the place.
But guess who has had the most ticks?
Yes, that’s right . . . Kallan.
And Maj?
I love that girl.
She worries a lot.
No idea where she got that.
Ahem.
Okay, last one, I promise. Speaking of spiders and Mark doing the spider dance, I posted a lovely picture of a spider up on my blog today. I can’t believe I got close enough to get a picture of it. I’m doing a frenzied dance of spider horror just thinking about it.
Can you tell I’m trying to avoid working right now?? I so am.
Hee hee! That is an awesome spider photo!
Our spiders here in Lake Oswego?
They make enormous webs. And then they sit in the middle of them and do a little bouncy dance of excitement. Mark hates them.
So fucking much.
Snort!
Can we have a Maj post every Thursday? seriously? I love her tender and frantic charm…
And my heart just melts that she wants to bring the “stuff she notices” to you…
Her tender and frantic charm?
Oh, I like that very much.
That is very Maj.
Is she a Gemini? She seems like a Gemini…
I feel her vunerability through your posts and its so gorgeous. Kindred spirits. my skin is also too thin…
I’m not much into horoscopes.
But Maj is a Taurus . . . May 11th.
Ugh…ticks. (((shudder)))
Ticks were usually a daddy problem in our house. Although, I have this very clear memory from when I was about 4 or 5. My parents had taken in this big, matted, pathetic stray dog that had wandered into our yard. The poor thing was covered in ticks. So my dad had a little fire going in a largish metal can and my mom and he were picking the little buggers off and dropping them into the fire can. (This was all going on in the backyard) Apparently, the best way to kill a tick is with fire.
I bet Kallan would have loved to roast Ticky!
And I hope Maj’s head lump was indeed a stick or some other transitory non-injury causing item.
Kallan would indeed have loved to roast Ticky.
She is all evil and sadistic that way . . . especially if the bug in question has made a big hole in her scalp.
And Maj’s head lump?
It was of the invisible sort.
She’s all good.
Tic-ish, but good.
Snort!
Ticks. Ugh. I used to sit out on the front porch at my grandmother’s and she would squeeze the well-fed ticks on the dogs until they popped. Ewwww. Of course, at the time, I thought it was cool.
I agree with Michelle. Fire is the best for killing the little bastards. And they make cool popping sounds when they burn. So you get some entertainment for your trouble.
Kallan’s logic about letting the tick go is too funny. Sounds like something my kids would say. I’m glad Maj didn’t have a tick.
Also, reading a post about the girls that doesn’t involve bickering is nice. We get to see another side of their personalities.
Ummm . . . you did notice that the girls were separated by several years in this post, correct?
Hard to bicker across the time-space continuum.
Snort!
Indeed, I did notice.
But there is no bickering in this post, either part. Which is lovely.
Though their bickering is quite entertaining – from a distance.
Snort!
Sometimes even up close?
They are very entertaining.
Ticky? I love that. Fire. I believe fire is the sure fire way to kill them.
Am laughing at Maj. They both sound very awesome, in completely opposite ways.
My girls are awesome.
Awesomely opposite.
And each awesome in her own right.
Thank you.
so glad we don’t have ticks in Seattle. because, eww! And that Maj is just awesome. bless her little worrier heart.
Maj is awesome.
And Maj is a worrier.
Love that girl.
She kills me, but I love that girl.
Also?
I misread your words at first as “Bless her little warrier heart.”
I like that phrase as well.
Poor severed Ticky…
And poor sinusy Maj.
Your daughters are amazing.
Thanks, you.
Thanks very much.
I have made it my whole life without a tick. We have them here. Lots of them and I avoid pine trees like the plague b/c apparently ticks really like pine trees. What’s worse than a tick, though? Snakes. Snakes make me weak-kneed and sick to my stomach. True panic inducers. Those are NOT my problem. Ever.
Snakes do not attach to your skull, babe.
Snakes slither away unless you step on them.
Silly you.
Snakes are not a problem.
My girls chase small snakes across our yard, shrieking with joy.
Ticks?
Less joy.
Snort!
Have you never heard of Medusa? Yeah snakes attached to the head.
Snort!
Yes, but those snakes did not leap up to be attached to her head. Medusa got in trouble with Athena after fucking Athena’s man. And Athena turned Medusa into a snake-haired monster who could never look upon the bad-boy Poseidon (or any other man) again without turning them to stone.
The lesson?
Do not fuck with Athena.
Snakes?
I’m good with snakes.
This is true. Athena= one badass bitch. Want to really scare Mark? Look up pictures of camel back crickets. Those are what I’m graced to quite frequently. Apparently they love cool, dark, damp places like bathtubs!!
Oooooh . . . are they anything like Jerusalem Crickets?
Those are some bad-ass bugs. We used to get those in Vallejo.
Hold on . . . let me Google your bug.
Oh, babe. Those are nothing.
Check it out: http://www.potatobugs.com/pix/potatobug_18.html
These fuckers are HUGE!!!
Ew ew ew ew ew. I was going to jump on the camel cricket bandwagon (we had those in our old apartment…yuk yuk yuk), but the potato bugs? Are nasty!
The Potato Bugs (or Jerusalem Crickets) are horrifying huge lumbering bugs.
The don’t hop, they just stomp about.
And they have a sharp mean bite.
The girls collected a few as pets one time.
They are not good pets.
Oh good lord…those are nasty looking fuckers. How the hell are those even related to crickets, they look like bees…camelbacks are totally harmless. They don’t bite, but they do jump really high and really fast.
They don’t actually jump.
They only sort of look like crickets . . . big mutant horrid ones.
I have seen Camelbacks (just didn’t know their name) . . . they are speedy and high.
I’d rather have Camelbacks than Jerusalem Crickets.
Yup. Definitely.
When I was a child (pre-Internet, gasp!) we had a medical tome. It was huge, with lengthy descriptions and gorgeous full-color photographs.
By the time I was a teenager, that book was dog-eared and tired. I honestly read it. Yep, didn’t just use it as a reference, but I read it.
And by the time I turned eighteen, at one point or another, I had self-diagnosed probably 88% of the illnesses, diseases, and afflictions between those two covers. (I would have scored a perfect 100% if only I hadn’t lacked the necessary male parts.)
Maj is completely normal. Just like me. ;)
Maj does not have a book like that.
This is a good thing.
And you, Nichole?
I adore you.
I just do.
I don’t know about you, but I find that there seem to be many more Mommy problems than Daddy problems. Funny, that.
Ummm . . . yeah.
Funny, that.
There are just so many good things in here, I don’t even know where to start. A mommy problem. Ticky. Pupils. Ahhh.
I did not have a tick until I was 30. I got it doing my company’s “volunteer” stream cleanup. You get to do things like this when you work for an environmental company. I was not amused. Many of our scientists who work in the field however? Get many ticks. Ticks that migrate to their nether regions. *shudder*
Mark is like Hub with the frenzied dance of spider horror. In our house? Spiders are a mommy problem. Me? I do the panicked flee of stinging insect horror. Those? Are daddy problems.
Also? I have always had very large pupils as well. My dad always found this very amusing. My hippie friends often commented that they would pay good money to induce pupils like mine.
Ticks in the nether regions?
Ack!
Mark actually does that frenzied dance of horror?
For all bugs.
Just generally? Bugs are my territory.
Unless death is required.
Mark is a big fan of bug death.
And Maj’s pupils?
Enormous.
It gives her an other-worldly look in photos, sometimes.
Plus?
She looks stoned.
Hee hee!
Hmm. The very idea of Maj stoned? Is very entertaining. hehehe All those worries taken to an existential level? Oh my. O.O
Hee hee!
I think that is a funny thought as well.
Shhhhh.
Bad Mommy.
Ava’s Daddy was a CMT/EMT and now a dialysis tech so thankfully lots of problems are “Daddy Problems”. She is only 2 months old and has calmed me down so many times. Without him? *sigh* I think I would be living at the doctors office or crazy house or maybe time sharing between the two.
Lucky you!
Mark does not do injuries or sickness.
Those are all Mommy problems at our house.
Blood?
Go see Mommy!
My hubby once had a tick or two after crawling through the woods all day. Something he called a “hike”. Anyway, he found out that the only ways to kill ticks is “with a damn hammer or fire”. Or a screw driver apparently.
Wait until Kallan hears that everyone says that fire is the way to kill a tick!
She’ll be out foraging in the trees for ticks.
Seriously.
She is all kinds of nuts like that.
Disgusting things and issues having to do with bodily functions are mommy territory over here. I have searched for ticks but thankfully have found none as yet. The old man totally rises to the occasion for cat vomit, however, because that totally makes mommy vomit. Or as my kids would say, “Welcome home, mama, the cat bombited.”
Bombited?
That’s awesome!
Sadly, at our house?
All pet messes are Mommy problems.
Sigh.
it is only because i literally hurl and bombit myself, for actual real, when handling cat puke or hairballs. all other gross pet and child tasks are mine.
My stomach is pretty strong.
But even if it were not?
It would be stronger than Mark’s.
Really.
What a lovely French Revolutionary end for poor Ticky.
A screwdriver guillotine.
I would have gone a little more Torquemada myself, and made a tiny little insect style rack.
Oh! Oh! Or a tick-sized iron maiden.
Maybe out of a peanut shell or something…
You are all crafty in your insect torture!
A peanut-shell iron maiden . . . . that’s awesome to imagine.
Snort!
A peanut shell iron maiden, nice one!
Happy sighs.
I know, right?