The Jumping Crickets

It has been HOT here lately, in the 90's. Sometimes when the mercury rises to that level for several days, the crickets begin to congregate in the shade of the house. After dinner a few evenings ago, I walked into the backyard and noticed several seeking solace by the rear wall of the house. As the boys are fascinated with insects of late, I called them outside to see the crickets.

I believe that I have previously mentioned that I have been trying not to act like a "girl" in regards to insects while in the presence of the boys. I'm not sure exactly what I am hoping to accomplish by this other than to not scare them and also to allow them their healthy interest without my prejudiced input. So, back to the crickets.

M asked if he could touch one of the crickets because, let's face it, bugs are only fun to touch, poke at, or prod...or dispose of into the nearest receptacle. I told him to go ahead and touch, but to be aware that they jump. M, with B directly on his heels, leaned down to touch the cricket which promptly began jumping. Unfortunately, the little bugger jumped right into my legs. Despite my best intentions, I began screaming, jumping up and down and flailing my arms like, well...a girl.

M and B thought this to be the height of hilarity. They began screaming, jumping up and down and flailing their arms. They continued to prod the crickets so that the crickets would jump and the boys could persist with this mimicry.

Lesson learned: Jumping cricket=Jumping mom=Jumping boys. (I didn't say there was a moral, just a lesson.)