I pulled a tiny tick off Peanut. Hubby noticed it earlier in the day and didn’t know what it was. It looked like a bit of sand or shell, which we’re still picking off ourselves from this weekend. I grew up in the Lyme disease capitol of the world, so anything tick-like is carefully scrutinized. I told Peanut it was a “bad buggy” as I yanked it off. The nasty little thing left a little welt on his thigh. We followed up with thorough tick checks of one another.

Peanut spent the rest of the night telling us he had bad ants in his diaper. I’m glad he took it all in stride.

(I’ll be on the lookout for fever, aches, and rash over the next several days. Me, paranoid? Absolutely.)