Yesterday afternoon, Harry came in from school in his normal dramatic fashion. Sloughed his backpack off his shoulders like it was filled with boulders, slammed it into a chair, deep exhausted sigh as he falls into a hug as though it took every ounce of his strength to drag himself through the day. Then just as quickly, he is rejuvenated. He is heading to the pantry for the first of two pudding cups, giving me the run down on his day. I get the highlights and the low lights (damn Math!). We go over what he has to get done for homework, etc.
After scarfing his pudding cups, he is milling around the kitchen while I putter around in there too. I am wiping off the kitchen counters or something and turn around and he has picked up some tweezers that were by the kitchen sink and is squeezing his bottom lip with them.
I say "Harry, I wouldn't do that. I used those tweezers to pull dead crickets out of their cage today."
Eyes bulge open. Gasping. Pulling his lower lip out from him face. He is in immediate distress.
Harry: "AHHHHH, what do I do??? OMG???? Help me. Dead crickets."
He dashes to the sink, scalding water blasting on his face.
I assure him that I rinsed the tweezers off after "Operation Dead Cricket Removal" so I am sure he is not going to die or anything. No reason to panic. Just don't put tweezers in your mouth. You'll be fine.
He wasn't so sure. Not sure he will touch of pair of tweezers again.
I laughed so hard.
I love my Harry!