Float like a butterfly, stings like a .......

It continues to be HOT here. I do think it is necessary DAILY to get the children OUT of the house. They are bored with the "same old, same old", so they are whiney and fussy. A Mom can only take so much whine and fuss, before she gets creative. So I done built dem dar children of mine a redneck waterpark.

Slide-check
Pool-check


The entire time I am moving the pool, and slide. I am thinking to myself this is surely to end in tradgedy, but I am desparate to hear laughter and hear splashing. No fighting over shovels, buckets, and the hose.

The children love it, they love it. They are no longer fussing. They are skipping and giggling in delight. They are climbing up and sliding down as fast as gravity will take them. They love Moms invention. I am thrilled, and am sitting at the opposite end of the pool, to ensure no one knocks the other one over, or flies right out of the pool while they are zipping down the slide. The children do this for 30 minutes, and I am catching them and clapping. Life is good.


I then hear Dash screaming in obvious pain and fear, and find a freaking wasp swarming over my poor little guy. (Dash, by the way is easily frightened, intense, bookish, easily overloaded and timid). SO I rush to get him from the top of the slide, and note he has been stung on his right anterior forearm. Fucking wasp, is attacking the 3 of us. Dash is screaming, and writhing in pain. Pink Ninja is hanging on my leg. Army Mom is running around trying to get away from this damn thing. I am carrying 54 pounds of toddlers and trying to get these babies away. I manage a hegira and I get the children to a lawnchair and quickly get the hose with freezing cold water to run over Dash's arm. The neighbors hear the screaming, and can see me running like an insane woman. So now we have an audience of 6.

I have never been stung, but the 3 of us have various allergies and in my twisted head I am praying Dash is not allergic to this darn wasp sting. Dash is crying and is scared, I am sure the adrenoline rush he got frightened him as much as the sting.

My weirdness sets in......

My pessimstic head, is already planning a call to 911. I can picture us showing up at ER, children in their huggies wet swimpants, covered in grass and dirt and Army Wife in her wet swimsuit, covered in pine needles, dirt and grass. I picture the front desk of ER, calling a pyschiatrist down to take these filthy children away from their just as dirty Mom.

So I hold him on my lap and run the cold water over his arm, and rub his blonde hair, and pick peices of grass off of him. Dash is repeatedly blubbering -- "Mommy, that wasp was naughty." "Mommy make him sit in the corner". "Call Daddy, so Daddy can take care of him." His sobbing is slowly slowly fading. He is telling me all about where wasps live, and what they eat.

The neighbors loose interest and fade away, the police and ambulance are not called to the scene. I am left alone sitting in a lawnchair with both of the wet toddlers on my lap.

I get a little bactine, and spray it on his sting, give him a dose of antihistimine, and tylenol. Dash tells me "you are a good nurse Mommy". I let him watch Monsters Inc. with Pink Ninja, they snack on animal crackers and giggle. We are inside for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

I am so glad he was cured with bactine spray, tylenol, antihistamine, a movie, and cookies.

I did not want to be in a pysch ward in my wet swimsuit.

CORRECTION: This post was a great opportuniy to use Sissy's word of the week Hegira, and I missed it.

The editor has made her correction.