Phoebe had such fun playing in the grass on Tuesday that I plopped her onto the earth again today. She pulled herself up to stand using the leg of my pants and walked circles around me. Occasionally she would drop to her hands and knees and crawl off in search of a nice crunchy wood chip. I'm almost certain I caught them all before they went into her mouth.
I was chatting with a friend (her kids were having a grand time playing with the boys) when her face grew serious. She was looking at Phoebe. In a calm but urgent tone she said, "She's got- she's got-" She didn't finish the sentence. I looked down thinking that maybe Phoebe had moved from wood chips to weeds. I was wrong. Struggling between her curious fingers was something squirming to get out.
A wasp.
I was already bending down to pick her up when my brain registered the black and yellow segmented body. I took hold of her arm while my friend, who had stopped talking and started moving when she saw what Phoebe had, gently pulled Phoebe's fingers away. The wasp remained on the ground, struggling to recover from being examined by a baby while Phoebe started to cry.
I quickly checked her hands, her face, her arms for evidence of a bite. Nothing. Then I realized she wasn't fussing because she was hurt. She was mad because we had taken her toy and she wanted it back.
Phoebe is my animal lover. She is completely unafraid of dogs and cats, which is very unlike her brothers. I had no idea that her love of critters extended to the insect world.
I'm still shocked that she wasn't stung. Shocked and exceedingly grateful.
She stayed, much to her annoyance, in my arms for the remainder of our stay at the park.
2 comments:
Wow! Do you remember accidentally touching a wasp when it was on the ground. Your hand and arm swelled up to your elbow. I am really glad that Phoebe did not get stung.
Maybe the wasp was in between having lost it's stinger and growing a new one.
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