:::This post is a little old, but I still think it's a hilarious story, so I'm re-posting it:::
So I'm standing in my kitchen, and I feel this little bump on my side. It hurts a little bit, but mostly is just annoying. Thinking it's probably a pimple, I leave it be for a minute.
Maybe 60 seconds later I go to touch the thing again (I also pick scabs and play with cuts in my mouth). Only now the bump isn't there, it's just sore. I wasn't near a mirror at the time, so I ask my daughter what it is. I lift my shirt a little.
My 5 year old says "it's a spider".
(I had felt this "bump" and it was most definitely not a spider.)
I said, "no it's not".
She says, in her little 5 year old voice "a flea then".
I doubted it.
"No, come on kiddo, what is it?"
So she says "well it's a red bump on your skin with little legs moving around".
What?
So I go in the bathroom and look at this in the mirror.....
Don't ever do that. Just find someone to handle it. Don't look. If I could've jumped out of my skin, I would have.
For anyone who hasn't figured it out by now, it was a tick. At least at that point, I assumed it was. I had to assume, because all I could see was this red, bleeding hole in my side with little black legs wiggling out of it. (Not a big hole or anything, but for the size of the creepy crawlie inside it, it was a gaping hole)
Now your skin will never be the same again. Sorry about that.
There were no adults in the house. As I was unlikely to hand my daughter a pair of tweezers and hope she had good aim (not that she was at all interested in doing such a thing. She wouldn't let me within 5 feet of her, afraid it would jump off me and onto her. She actually asked if i could just leave her there and come back to get her once the thing was disposed of.), we went over to my parents' house.
There is nothing quite like driving, knowing that you have a tick burrowing deeper into your flesh with every passing second. Of course, I couldn't even feel it before I knew it was there. But once I knew, every move of it's awful little legs was making my skin crawl.
I pulled into their driveway. Leaving the 5 year old to get herself out of her booster seat, I threw open their front door and yelled at the top of my lungs, "MOOOOOOOOM!!!"
My dad was standing not 10 feet away from me, holding a bag of coffee, apparently preparing to brew some. He raises his eyebrows.
Me: "Where's mom?"
Dad: "She's not here, what's the matter?" (I was a bit panicked, so who knows what he thought)
Me: "I have a tick on me, when is Mom going to be back?"
This last bit shows just how little faith we had in our father's competence. This notion that both my brother and I share is unwarranted, but exists buried deep in our subconsciouses. Probably thanks to my mother. Anyway.....
(In reality, I just wanted my mommy.....)
Dad: Well, is it somewhere embarassing?
Why, no...not it wasn't. It was just on my side, and if it positioned my shirt just so, all would be well.
So, for an anti-climactic ending to this tale, my dad pulled it out with some tweezers, (along with a fair amount of flesh, "just to be safe". I'm taking it as revenge for not trusting him to be able to handle tick removal) then dumped some peroxide on my wound. My little parasite is now dead, wrapped in aluminum foil on my kitchen counter waiting to go to the vet to be tested for lyme disease.
That's what I need.........Lyme disease.
The ick factor is through the roof on this one. I'm buying stock in Off, and I apologize to those who actually see me, because I'm probably going to smell like bug spray for the rest of my natural life. Once was enough for me.
