Ants in your pants on your feet

While in Mt. Pleasant for Mother's Day, Papa decided the boys needed to go down to the lake for a little fishing fun.

Believe it or not, I used to be quite the little tomboy and really enjoyed fishing. I must've lost that interest somewhere b/w the ages of 16 and 33 b/c after spending 5 minutes at the lake, I was ready to get out of there. Not sure if it's because I was bored or more worried that Keller was going to dive into the water but nonetheless, I was not enjoying myself as much as I did years ago. Neither of the boys really understand the true concept of fishing so they were getting a little impatient waiting to see a fish. I knew Papa really wanted to catch one so I tried to convince them that the fish would come if we were patient and quiet. Ha...who was I kidding? Patience doesn't come easy to many children and quiet...well, we all know Keller doesn't know what that means. They eventually found some sticks to play with so that passed the time for a few more minutes.

It wasn't quite long enough to catch a fish but it was long enough for Keller to find a bed of angry and hungry fire ants. By the time he got the word "ants" out of his mouth, they were up to his ankle. I scooped him up and got them off as fast as I could but he still ended up with a few bites on the toes. After that, he was ready to go. Fish or no fish, he was in the truck ready to call it a day.

Once we got back to the house, sweet Aunt Phyllis washed his feet in vinegar and doctored him up with benadryl so he was back up and running in no time.

He was quick to let us know that next time he needed to wear tennis shoes and socks so those "mean ants" can't bite his feet. I'll make sure of that but I think I'll also make sure he's wearing a life vest. Maybe that will calm my nerves long enough for me to enjoy the peacefulness of nature instead of worrying about my daring 3 year old who wants to stand just a little too close to the edge of the water. "But mommy, I can see better down here."