Seriously. She will be living with Kael for at least another 13 years. That's 13 long years with Bug Boy. It might as well be a sentence at Gitmo complete with torture if she can't conquer her fears.
We were driving home from swim lessons Wednesday evening when once again the peaceful car ride was pierced by an ear-splitting scream. It was so piercing, so high pitched that I thought it came from outside, despite the rolled up windows. It took a few seconds for me to realize the noise came from Malia. I looked back and sure enough, she was frozen with a terrified look on her face. This time she was able to articulate what was wrong. Or perhaps I was able to infer the meaning of her panicked shrieks since it was a familiar look of terror on her face that I'm now able to recognize.
"THERE'SABUGINTHECAR! THERE'SABUGINTHECAR!"
I looked at the window, expecting to see an Africanized killer bee. Or maybe a huge fat wasp. Hell, it wouldn't have surprised me to see a South American tarantula. She was carrying on like there was imminent death. But I don't see a thing. Granted, my windows were dirty with water spots from the sprinkler so it was hard to see anything. (Ironically Kael the other day told me to get a car wash while he was in school because he thought the car was dirty.)
Anyway, I try to look but I'm driving. I can't pull over because the road we're on is under construction. So I did what all parents do when their kids put them between a rock and a hard place: I lied.
"The bug is outside Malia! It's outside! It can't get you."
This seems to calm her down. The terrified look on her face is still there but it's turned down a few notches. The screeching is reduced to rapid heaving. I keep driving, a little faster, hoping what I told her is true and the speed will blow the damn thing away.
She screams again. This time even louder and more terrified. Apparently my attempts to blow the bug away didn't succeed. Great. So now she probably thinks it's a Super Bug, capable of drilling through windows.
I tell her again: "The bug is outside Malia! It's outside! It can't get you. I promise. I promise! It's outside!"
She calms again. But the bug must be on the inside because a minute later, she screams again. I'm guessing the bug rests in between walking on the window. That would account for Malia's cyclical panic attacks.
By now we're nearing the house. As bad as I feel for Malia, I figure the easiest thing to do would be to get home, pronto. As I speed home, listening to my daughter's screams, I think of you, my blog readers. How this would be another great blog post, but no one will ever believe me. No one will believe how truly terrified Malia is of bugs now. Ever since that damn Beetle Shirt incident.
As I pull into the garage, it hits me: my bad, bad Mommy moment. I stop in the middle of the driveway... and whip out my phone to document the terror. I don't pull into the garage because I'm afraid there's not enough light. So we're half in the garage, half out, with the tail end of the Expedition hanging out on the driveway. And I get my shots:
Kael's head gets in my way because he's way more interested in finding the bug than calming his sister down. I'm telling you: Gitmo for 13 years.
Malia in her terrified glory.
My poor, poor baby.
I never told you what the bug was, did I? I couldn't see it from inside the car so I had to run over to her side to rescue her. It was a teeny tiny gnat. About the size of the head of a pin. Seriously. I'm amazed she even saw the little thing. Now whenever we get into the car, the first thing she asks is if I've gotten rid of the bug.
Every. Single. Time.
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