Gracie is terrified of bugs.
I discovered this one day, when she was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor buttering her toast, and she suddenly jumped up, shrieking her head off, ran into the living room, and scaled the couch until she was at its highest spot. Still shrieking, of course.
The bug in question: A fat cockroach waddling across the kitchen floor
(Gross, I know, but let me just say that in Texas, its either cockroaches in the city or scorpions in the country. What would you rather have walking across your floor?!) .
But no wonder the girl is terrified whenever she sees a bug. Even Roly Poly bugs (is that their scientific name, I wonder?) freak her out. And getting attacked by a mound of Texas Fire Ants (those are nasty little things which bite and burn and leave pussy bumps-- all over Gracie's hands) last week certainly didn't help her bug fright.
And of course she has yours truly to model the shrieking bug attack behavior as I am the queen of bug inspired freak outs. When a bug lands on my arm, hair, face, wherever, I do my "Get This Freaking Thing Off Me" dance which involves jumping up and down while flapping my hands all over my body in an attempt to rid myself of any bug which might be crawling over me, while crying out, "EEEEEE!! Ew ew ew, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, get off me!"
This dance has been perfected over the years as a result of these incidents:
The Yellow Jacket Hive Attack of 1988.
(in which my brother and I accidentally stumbled upon a yellow jacket nest -- they are in the ground-- and were brutally attacked by the hive as they crawled through our hair and clothes stinging us. The result-- bees freak me out, especially yellow jackets and wasps)
The Tarantula (I swear it!) Walking on Leg Fiasco of 1990.
(in which a humongous hairy spider was crawling up my leg during Girl Scout camp when I was nine. The result-- I am terrified of spiders and believe whole heartedly that all spiders are dangerous, poisonous and out to get me.)
The Roly Poly Birthing Disaster of 1991.
(in which a roly poly decided to give birth in my hand. Not a tender mothering moment, I assure you. Her stomach ripped open and out popped a handful of white and wiggly babies. Looked like maggots. The result-- I hate roly polys.)
The Pincher Bug Infestation of 1997.
(in which, at the age of sweet sixteen, I awoke in the middle of the night to find my self covered -- and I mean covered-- in pincher bugs, which had crawled in from the window above my bed one summer night. The result-- Severe mental trauma and an intense hatred for ALL BUGS (with the exception of Socket Joe-- story to follow, and butterflies which are too delicate to be frightened of-- although caterpillars are a different story as one landed in my hair once)!!!
The Carpenter Ant/Hairspray Resurrection of 2001.
(in which, upon discovering a band of carpenter ants seeking water in my bathroom sink, I grabbed the first thing I saw to attack them with (a bottle of Pantene Pro-vitamin hair spray) and coated the monsters until they were dead. I then wiped them up (all but one, who was in a crack in my window ledge and impossible for me to reach), trying my best to put the incident behind me.
Until several weeks later, while inspecting (read: triumphing over) the ant who was frozen in my window sill, I saw a little leg wiggle. The leg wiggle quickly turned to all legs wiggling, which quickly escalated to the atrocious ant freeing himself from his floral scented crusty coffin and walking away. My heart was in my throat and, in my terror, I did what anyone fearing for their life would do.
I squashed him. The result of this incident: I consider all ants evil)
The Legend of Socket Joe
Once there lived a bug named Joe who decided to make his home in the socket hole found inside a small apartment bathroom. This little bug, beetle-like in his appearance, was probably very dangerous, as all bugs are.
Once day, the human (lets call her Marisa) who resided in the apartment in which Joe called home, discovered Joe walking along the bathroom wall as she was getting ready to blow dry her hair.
In a panic, and while executing a very sophisticated "Get This Freaking Thing Off Me" dance, Marisa watched Joe crawl into the wall socket. Instantly, she plunged her hair dryer plug into the socket and turned the piece of machinery on.
She proceeded to blow dry her hair in peace, believing the dangerous beetle to be frying inside his little socket home.
She was wrong.
A few days later, Marisa, this time getting ready to flat iron her unruly bangs, discovered Joe (very much alive) walking along the wall and into the socket. Again, Marisa plugged in her hair appliance and tried her very best to electrocute the pest. Again she failed.
After several days and attempts, Marisa admitted defeat and a friendship was born between Socket Joe and his house mate.
So anyway, the point of all of this is to show off what Gracie calls her "Google Bugs" which are the buggy painted rocks that we artfully created a couple of days ago. I figured maybe it was time to set a better bug example for my very impressionable (near) three year old, so we gathered some rocks while on a nature hike, and took them home to paint.
I think Gracie's are better than mine. How cute is this little googly buggy face?
Although, if I were to one day find this google bug crawling across my leg, I would probably squash it.
After doing my exotic dance, of course.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Gracie is terrified of bugs.