A few years ago, Andra got stung by a bee.  After an acceptable time of being supportive and comforting, I am pretty sure I lapsed into the "You're fine, Andra, stop whining about it" mode.  Its important kids are tough, right? Then I got stung.  Man, I had forgotten how much that hurts.  And as I am caterwauling around holding my foot I did have a moment where Andra caught my eye, and yes, I apologized. 

Last week, Andra got stung by a scorpion. It was bedtime, and she yelled "Mom, there's a tarantula in my room!", which of course brought me running.  Lucky for me (kind of) it was just a scorpion.  So I asked her "Did it sting you?" and she looked at me, paused, and started wailing "YES! OWWWW!"  Because of the pause, I have to admit that I may have been on the other side of supportive, especially because there was no mark.  Nonetheless, we called the neighbor doctor, got the scoop, did the internet research and watched for drooling and spasms.  We saw none, just as we saw no mark - which could have been because she didn't get stung, or because according to most websites it doesn't leave a mark.  Either way.  The next day she mentioned that she was quite drooly, so we laughed about the cool human science of scorpion stings.

Unfortunately, the bug sting karma must not be out of my system, because today while I was outside barefoot, wham!  OUCH.    Mr. Scorpion got me.  And I tell you what.  IT HURTS.  My whole foot is wacky, and guess what?  No mark.  I haven't started drooling yet, but as God is my witness I will never doubt that kid again.  She knows her bug stuff.

And just as I was limping around whining, a friend called with 4 tickets to the Broadway show Lion King - and did we want to go.  Turns out we were totally free today, since not only do I not support my kids when they are attacked by arachnids, but I don't schedule them for any mind enriching activities.  We picked up the girl's cousin Kara, and went to the show.  It was wonderful.  Hakuna Matata.