A week or two ago Aaron and the kids were playing in the backyard. This is not new or different, as the kids play in the yard every single day. At some point Aaron brought Sammy in to use the potty. A minute later I hear Sammy screeching and Aaron saying he couldn’t understand her when she was yelling. She then yelled for me, and naturally I came to assess the situation. Upon deciphering her cries, I realized there was an ant crawling on her bum. I don’t know about you, but I would have been even more hysterical about the situation. Like a good mother I immediately killed it and she was fine. They went back outside to play.
Ten or so minutes later I hear more hysterical yelling from the yard. By the time I stop cooking or whatever I was doing (ok, maybe I was on Facebook, I don’t remember anymore) and come to the back door, Aaron is stripping off all of Sammy’s clothes because there are more ants on her. This time they aren’t just passively crawling on her, they are biting her. Poor thing only got a few bites, but they were pretty red and irritated, so again I can’t say the yelling was unjustified. After a shower to make sure all the ants were gone she finally stopped crying and calmed down. But we got to hear about it all that evening and all the next day, how mean the ants were and the locations of all her bite from the mean ants.
And now strangely enough she has a strong aversion to ants and the back corner of our yard. Can’t say I blame her.