Last night, M and I went to our friend Paul's soccer game. Because it had been sprinkling off-and-on all day, it wasn't too hot and I showed up despite this ridiculously obnoxious cold I've been battling all week. Of course, I had never been to the soccer fields and I had no idea what to expect. It did not occur to me to take chairs or a blanket, and I realized my mistake as soon as we arrived, but I was not worried. God made a ground so I could sit on it, right?? M and I plopped down behind Paul's team and watched. Slowly, more friends arrived (four of M's co-workers and one spouse). We all noticed that there were a lot of ants crawling around us and on us, but they were primarily those little ones that don't seem to do anything but crawl..no big deal. Then I noticed some bigger ants crawling on my pant legs, and I started to get that feeling that bugs were crawling all over me. I remained as calm as possible...until it happened.
Ants had gotten into my pants. So, there I am hanging out with all M's friends and cohorts with ants crawling around in my undies and stinging my butt. I tried squirming around a little hoping to squish them with my ever widening rear end. No such luck. I whispered to M, "there are ants in MY PANTIES." He chuckled and whispered back, "you have ants in your pants." He did not realize the trauma that my poor posterior was under. I continued to squirm, and I finally tried to discreetly rub my butt to squish the ants, but there was no way I could do it without full-on shoving my hand down the back of my pants and scratching away. That would be unseemly. I stood up and shuffled my weight between my feet, praying the ants would just succumb to gravity and fall down the legs of my jeans. Yeah, right. There was absolutely NOTHING I could do. I sat back down, this time sitting on my heels instead of the ground, hoping I could kill the ants with my feet. Somewhere around this time, my butt went pretty numb, but I still wanted to cry because my butt was stinging a little and I was completely embarrassed. I'm pretty sure that at some point the ants traveled a smidgen south of "butt cheek", and I was fairly uncomfortable the whole night. When we got to the car, I bet M that if I took my pants off my rear end would be covered in red sting marks. He admitted that at some point he looked over and thought I looked like I was in a substantial amount of pain. Now I worry that someone else may have noticed it, too. Would they have guessed that I had ants in my pants? Hopefully not...and I could blame it on the baby if I had to, I suppose. It was not my night, and, for the record, I forgot to check my butt for red marks, but I did feel like there were ants in the bed all night.
On to bigger and better things- FIVE SENSES FRIDAY:
Sight: Otis "in jail" behind the baby gate we installed at the top of the stairs (we're trying to slowly get him used to changes around the house). He looks very pitiful.
Sound: Otis breathing in my ear during a nap the other day.
Taste: Fries from Wendy's last night after the insect attack
Smell: I don't think I've smelled anything since Monday...lots and lots of congestion
Touch: Otis licking our fingers as we brushed his teeth the other night. He really likes that poultry flavored toothpaste, and he'll lick anything that comes even remotely near the stuff. It's gross- and brown!!
Happy weekend, peeps!