(no subject)
I was reading a post on metaquotes about ants, and it made me remember the first boy I ever had a crush on. I must have been about 7 because I think I was in second grade. I was in daycare at the time because my parents worked both early in the morning before I needed to be at school and late in the day after school was out. And so my mom would drop me off at daycare at 6 in the morning, where I would be fed and entertained and then shuttled off to school, and at 3 when school was over daycare would be there to pick us up and bring us back, where my mom would come get me and take me home around 5 in the evening.
So anyway, one day after school we were sitting outside waiting for the daycare van, talking and playing and whatever. At some point I happened to notice that I was sitting on an anthill, and one of the ants had crawled inside my sock and was biting me. Being 7, I screamed and burst into tears. This boy, a fellow ward of daycare, who was a few years older, came over to me, picked me up and set me on safe, ant-free ground, and then pulled down my sock and scraped the ant off my ankle. Mostly. The ant's body was actually scraped off, but his disembodied head remained attached to me by his pinschers, which continued to bite me. So this brave, heroic boy gingerly pinched the ant's head between his fingernails, picked it off me, smushed it and wiped it on his jeans, and then gave me a hug. I don't remember his name now, but I remember that I adored him.
So anyway, one day after school we were sitting outside waiting for the daycare van, talking and playing and whatever. At some point I happened to notice that I was sitting on an anthill, and one of the ants had crawled inside my sock and was biting me. Being 7, I screamed and burst into tears. This boy, a fellow ward of daycare, who was a few years older, came over to me, picked me up and set me on safe, ant-free ground, and then pulled down my sock and scraped the ant off my ankle. Mostly. The ant's body was actually scraped off, but his disembodied head remained attached to me by his pinschers, which continued to bite me. So this brave, heroic boy gingerly pinched the ant's head between his fingernails, picked it off me, smushed it and wiped it on his jeans, and then gave me a hug. I don't remember his name now, but I remember that I adored him.