Remember the Earwig

Just yesterday, I heard a panicked cry from the top of our tree. Not the best place to lose control. My adrenaline kicked in and I rushed up the branches like I never could if I weren't a mother. I made it to the damsel in distress and found the reason for the cry: a skinny, 1/2 inch bug on her dress.

It was an "earwig," also known as a pinch bug. They're fast and kind of creepy, but not in the category of scorpions or anything. I gave the poor sliver a little flick and it flew down the tree.

Later, as everyone was getting on the trampoline, the same daughter ran screaming to her room in a fearful rage. Never never never would she ever ever ever jump again. The tramp was filled with (had one or two soon-to-be trampled on) earwigs!

Today, I find all four kids huddled on the patio, entranced with some little creature that I assume is a ladybug or a roly-poly. I get a little closer, and an earwig is crawling all over Clara's arms, her shoulders, her neck, her legs. She then passes it off to June, then John who is fascinated as his slow motion baby reflexes try to catch it and squeeze it between his stubby fingers.

So now, in a day's time, Clara loves earwigs. "Aaaawwww! They're sooo cuuuuute!" When she's a teenager, and drama is at every turn, Jeff and my code words will be "Remember the Earwig!"