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I hate summer.  It's hot...it's icky....it's hard not to smell like corn chips.  One of the joys of summer is the plague proportion of bugs.  Livi does NOT do bugs.  I've been trying to persuade her that she does not have to scream at the sight of a 1/2 inch beetle five feet away.  I'm proud to say she's improved.  Now she'll just holler at it from two feet away.

Since Ethan is at ESY in the afternoons, I've taken to braving the heat to run errands.  Today, Livi graciously slept late, so there was no time to go much of anywhere.   It was just long enough to potentially give her ideas, such as:  "Mama!  Let's go outside and play hide and seek!"  Yeah....no.  As much as I enjoy sweatin' like a Catholic priest in a Texas whore-house, I just wasn't feeling it today.  So, I took her to the car for a quick visit to Grandma at Work.   Livi was almost to her door when she spied a bug. 

"A BUG!!"  She squatted and peered at it from a safe distance.  "It's not moving!"

Ah yes.  Our garage is a favorite place for critters to come and seek eternal rest.  Hmm...I guess I get to have a mini-theological discussion with my 3 year old.

"Well, that means the bug has gone on to a better place.  A little part of heaven just for bugs!  Now Jesus will take care of them and they'll always be happy."

Livi looked at me thoughtfully, shrugged, and said: "Okay.  I want a mint."

Smug at my successful lesson, I started for my side of the car, requiring me to pass the dearly departed.  It was then that I realized I'd just given an important life lesson to my child over a......toad turd.  It's the thought?

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