It's a Bug's Life

I have a little boy who is curious about a lot of things. Things that he studies intently and asks lots of questions about. Yesterday, on a beautiful 70 degree plus day, he was curious about bugs.



Now, I don't like bugs. I don't like how they sometimes get into the house. I don't like killing them when they get in the house, but know that I have to since I don't like them in the house. I don't like how they fly around forcing one to swat around their face to avoid said bug landing on them. I don't like eating outside because I don't like bugs by my food or beverage. I don't touching them and I don't like them crawling all over me. It seriously gives me the wiggles just thinking about it. But, I have a little boy who was very curious about bugs yesterday, so I tried to encourage him.



I pointed the bugs out to him. I held his hand out to see if the bug would crawl on it. I even touched one of the bugs (gasp!) with the tip of my fingernail on its wing when it accidently flopped over onto its back. That was the extent of my touching the bugs. I was glad when Alan came over and picked up the beetle so it could crawl on Landon's shirt. I was perfectly content to stand a reasonable distance away and click pictures (I love zoom!).



You may think it's a "noble" thing that I put aside my own fears for the sake of my son's curiousity. Not really...because if he ever developed a curiosity for reptiles or amphibians, you can be guaranteed that I would run in the other direction : ).