Today, Elissa was cheerfully picking up bits and pieces in the front yard and putting them in my hands. Drop. Repeat.
She picked up something that looked slightly odd, so I dropped very quickly. Good thing too. It was a bee. She'd picked it up by the wing and dropped it into my hands. Some quick action moved the bee off to another part of the garden before she could repeat the process. Lucky little beastie she is - not actually managing to get stung.
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Tom did something like that to me once when he was very young, came up to me saying "Mum, look what I've got!" and holding a bee by its wings. I distinctly remember saying very calmly "Let Go Of The Bee and Move Away."
ReplyDeleteHe reckons he was stung by a wasp once when he was little. I have no memory of that happening (and you'd think I'd know wouldn't you!) but as his story has remained unchanged over the years I've developed a theory.
I think he'd been told so many times not to touch/annoy/pick up bugs that bite of various kinds, that when he managed to provoke a wasp into stinging him he was too scared of being told off for doing something stupid to tell me about it at the time.