This past weekend wasn't much different except for two things:
1) We were now bringing a very unsuspecting toddler to the scene and we were meeting with friends who have two twin boys about Son's age,
2) We got introduced to ticks. And not in a good way.
I had full intention of relaxing this weekend. I had even naively and somewhat sheepishly brought along a book "to read in the shade while resting" as I happily announced to the Diplomat while packing. I remember looking mournfully at the book all weekend as I dealt with Son while he, along with two other very active boys whom he befriended instantaneously:
--ran around digging up ants
--shoved his head into an old concrete water pipe shouting toddler obscenities inside
--rolled around the ground enjoying a nice dust bath
--screamed that he wants juice, chocolate milk, water, bread, cheese, horsey, poopy, his cars, his monkey and a myriad of other tangible and at times, intangible paraphernalia
--ate half of a watermelon and then spent the rest of the evening peeing the woods
--refused to take an afternoon nap, while I tried to have one to the tune of three toddlers crying loudly for 45 minutes
--demanded to poke around the fire
--refused to wear his shoes
--demanded to wear shoes
--hugged me with sticky watermelon fingers and ran them lovingly through my hair.
Still, we had a blast. And then our friends initiated us into the world of ticks. I'd rather have stayed ignorant. As I said, we have been camping in the woods for some years now and never really thought about them or even knew what they looked like. Until today when our friends took out a massive tick off the thigh of one of their sons and I almost fainted while watching them. Several hours and numerous paranoid body reviews later, I have successfully harvested three ticks off me and one off Son. To the Diplomat's horror, I have not been able to find any on him so far which leaves him morbidly convinced that he is a major tick carrier but that they are hiding in his hair only to re-appear when he is at least suspecting. He makes me check him for ticks on the hour. It is worse and far more repetitive than CNN newscasts on a breaking news day. We have for now vowed to never camp again.
In other, just as repetitive news, I took and passed this week my BEX exam in Bulgarian with 5/5 which apparently puts me at the level of an intelligent native speaker. Well, why, thank you!