First off, let me just say that I HATE BUGS. Little ones, shiny ones, spotted ones, and especially BIG ones. They completely gross me out and give me the heebie jeebies.
My first child never cared much for bugs. She spent her time talking and climbing and didn't really see a need for bugs.
My second child was a beautiful little toddler during the year of the ladybug 'plague'. She enjoyed popping those little polka-dotted beauties right into her mouth. COUNTLESS ladybugs met their demise between the jaws of my little girly; I've no idea how many I plucked out, nor how many she digested. At least ladybugs are kind of cute.
My third child is my only son. He is two years old and is just now beginning to notice the interesting world of bugs. He went outside today with a bowl in hand ready to catch bugs only to return moments later declaring that our yard has no bugs. He was disappointed; I was secretly thrilled. Whew.
But, yesterday was another story. Yesterday my 8 month old precious, innocent darling had her first encounter with a bug. I don't know how it happened. I was holding her, outside, at dusk. She was happily sucking away on her fingers. She gagged. I removed her fingers from her mouth. Reinsert fingers. Gag. Remove fingers. Etc. Well, after a few minutes (poor baby) I finally realized that her fingers were NOT her problem. I finger swiped her mouth - nothing. She gagged again. I swiped. Nothing. So, in the dim dusky light I opened her mouth and could see 'something' but couldn't tell what it was. I ran into the house with her, swiped her mouth again, and a BIG beetle type bug fell onto the floor! AAAAGHH!!! I ran over to my hubby, held my poor baby out to him and yelled 'Make sure there are no legs or anything in my innocent baby's mouth!'
My wonderful hubby dutifully disposed of the bug - but not without 'reassuring' me that the bug was completely dead. Really! Should that be reassuring? She sucked the life right out of that bug while sucking on her fingers! To which he replied 'Well, it was intact if that makes you feel better.' Ummm, NO, it does NOT make me feel better.
So, today my oldest daughter (age 11) says, 'What if it had been a roach, Momma?'
Well, if it had been a roach, dear, I would have lost the bit of sanity I have left and you would have forever needed to explain to your friends how a roach sent your momma to the funny farm.