Monday, June 6, 2011

My name is Tick: Or, Why I Prefer the Indoors

A little girl we know came home once repeating a cheer she'd heard at school, only we were all pretty sure she was repeating it wrong because, according to her, it went like this:

My name is Nick
My name is Tick
Tick Tick Tick BOOM dynamite!

That's not how it really went, by the way. It really went like this:

Our team is dynamite
Our team is tick tick tick tick BOOM dynamite!

But I must confess, I like the "my name is Tick" one better.

I've got that cheer in my head today. I may have mentioned this before, but I am an indoor cat. Anything outdoorsy is so far out of my comfort zone, it is not even funny. I'm so sensitive to the sun that it gives me a rash, I hate bugs and dirt, I kill plants much easier than I grow them... the outdoors and I are not pals.

Today, though, I pushed through it. I do that, from time to time, because I do like to watch the water roll in at the beach, and I like to swim. I like to see how much my kids enjoy outdoorsy things, and I like to travel, so sometimes we camp. Today, I went for a walk with my mom, my sister, their dogs, and my Small One.

It was pleasant enough. The weather was nice, the walk was scenic, and even though Small whined incessantly about her legs aching and how tired she was, I was able to distract her with nature facts, so I felt pretty good about that.

Until we got home, and I found SEVEN ticks under my little girls underwear! Holy guacamole. I am now convinced that I am completely covered in those disgusting little critters, and I'm engaged in the fruitless pursuit of pulling off my own freckles and moles. BOOM, dynamite!

See? THIS is what happens when you go outside.

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