My girls all came home from school happy and cheerful and it was a wonderful homecoming. They all greeted me, smiled, and there weren’t any hints of sibling armageddon.
Then came the e-mail titled simply with Sweet Girl’s name on it.
Mrs. Para-Professional pulled a tick off of G’s pants today after recess. You might want to give her a good look when she gets home today.
*names have been changed to protect those who have not given permission to participate
Is it horrible of me that my first thought was, “Of course it’s the child with Sensory Integration Disorder that needs a tick check?” My next thought was, “Of course it’s the child with the thickest, curliest, coarsest hair, longest hair. This is going to be so much fun.”
For the record, it was the opposite of pleasant. This is one part of parenting that “they” don’t tell you about before becoming a parent. The necessity of tick checks and the joy of doing them. How thorough you have to be in doing them. How you have to explain it to your child adequately and get across how important it is without giving them panic attacks.
During the tick check, she did help. I had her in the bath tub to make it easier, and we made sure that her freckles weren’t ticks. The girl who hates freckles. I think she was hoping her freckles were ticks so that they would come off. She kept trying to convince me that each freckle was a tick and needed to be scraped off. Yeah… one freckle has a soon-to-be scab next to it now.
Luckily we came away mostly unscathed. My daughter is tick-free. Being such, it’s time to go prepare the lovely rotisserie chicken that The Mister was kind enough to pick up from the grocery store for supper.