bugs, bugs, bugs

Have you ever sniffed a centipede? No? Well I hadn't either until Sarah told me they smell really good. In that moment, I was thinking, What a weird kid. She then stuck the thing near my nose and told me to smell it. Okay . . . I had no interest in doing this, but she was pleading at this point. And you know what? She was right. They smell really sweet, like perfume. How weird. (Unlike my child, who can't seem to get enough of it, one sniff was sufficient for me.)

We then proceeded to have a discussion about animals' defenses. Sarah's theory was that the sweet smell didn't really smell that good to other animals who might try to eat them, which would stop the animals from eating them. The logic may be faulty, but the thinking is certainly there.

Eric can hold his own when it comes to thinking about how bugs survive and thrive. Today, he clarified my mistake when I called a slug's eyeballs antennae instead. "No Mommy. Those are its eyes." Totally right! He wondered about the slime they leave behind, saying, "Maybe that's part of its protection." He then wondered about where its mouth might be and we took a closer, without success. He guessed, "It's probably underneath."

While we are on the topic of my children and bugs, I think that they have officially surpassed my comfort level when it comes to "loving the bugs." (Cockroaches aside, I do appreciate investigating this fascinating world.) But - slug slime isn't quite my cup of tea. And cicadas aren't really either - not to hold anyway. They're too big and the wings feel creepy when they fly out of your hand. I have to admit though, I have a sense of pride when I witness my two little people observing and nurturing and thinking about all things slimy and smelly and small.