Mr. S. and I spent tonight excavating a tick from the Peanut's butt crack. No, she wasn't rolling around in the woods naked. I'm announcing where the tick was as a warning - be careful, really. Check your kids' privates, check their hairlines (there was another one behind her ear, but that one came out quickly), check their bellybuttons. This thing was just a speck -- smaller than a sesame seed -- and it didn't come out cleanly, so much poking had to be done to get it all out. No fun.
Thank God it wasn't the Bean, who just completely loses her shit over anything that happens to her body. Papercut? She has to lie down for a half hour to recover. Scraped knee, with perhaps a single droplet of blood? She's down for the count. Once she got a splinter, and Christ, it was as if she'd lost a limb.
So if this has to happen to either of my children, I guess I'd prefer it be the one who can better deal with it. But still - ticks are nasty, and Lyme disease is awful, and being clamped down and poked with a needle for an hour is utterly miserable. She did a good job, all things considered. She cried for her Taggie, clenched it in her little fist and eventually seemed to almost fall asleep... kind of a self-hypnosis thing happening there, I think. She's my hero.
I need a drink.
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