Last night we had dinner on our back deck, a favorite dining location for Monkey. I think his favorite part of eating outside are all the friends that join us. Bees, flies, spiders…ugh. I can’t believe any child of mine likes bugs in general but to see him picking up spiders, OMG, it kills me.
So, we were enjoying the tortellini and vodka cream sauce when something buzzed by. I am proud to say that I did not jump up out of my seat screaming like a little girl. I just wanted to. Now, if this something had come sliding down on a thin strand of silk, rather than buzzing by, you can be certain that the neighbors would have all been looking out their windows wondering if a call to 911 was needed…
But it didn’t. It buzzed by and I merely froze in place and held my breath, waiting to identify the intruder before perhaps overreacting by a smidge. The winged bandit settled on the nearby ladder and I let out a breath. “It’s only a fly!”
The entire time I was frozen in place desperately trying to avoid potential death by stinger, Monkey’s eyes were fixated on the beast. He watched avidly as it lazily circled over the table before landing. His reaction was to hold his hand out and say, in that gentle, high pitched, voice we all use to coax some nervous creature to hand, “C’mere…come herre, c’mere.”
And, in response, that stupid fly took flight and would have landed on the kid’s hand if he hadn’t, at the last second, reached out instead of keeping his hand at rest.
So, now, we call him the Bug Whisperer. I’m so squicked out proud.