Bugs

I don't like bugs. I see what we in the South politely call Palmetto Bugs and I scream. I scream while I beat them with a broom and I scream while I scoop them up to put them in the trash. If someone else is around, I scream while that person kills the bug and I scream while they scoop it up and put it in the trash can. Rest assured, my random squawking doesn't stop until I can no longer see the bug. So, it's only natural *said with wide eyes and head nodding* that when I read books to my child that have (sometimes cute) bugs in them, that I explain that when Mommy sees bugs, she squashes them.

Susie apparently learned what to do with bugs from her Mommy. We had been to Gymboree gym class, and then a quick trip about 20 miles away. Susie started to get antsy in her car seat . . . most likely because we made her ride in the car from quite some time past the magic hour that is her bed time. About 3 blocks away from the house, Susie starts giggling and says, "Susie squashed bug! Squashed bug goes POP, Mommy!" She paused a moment either for us to take that in or for her little mind to make sense of her new experience, and then added, "Pop just like a bubble!"