and i thought the slug was bad

Last week, we piled the kids into the van to go get some ice cream. Both boys had a great week at school and a Friday night ice cream cone was their reward. As we were pulling out of the driveway, Truett leans forward in his seat and says, "Here Dad. This was in my ear," and hands Sam a slug. A slug! After asking him how a slug got in his ear, we figured out that it was behind his ear, not actually in it, although I can't say that made me feel much better. Tru said the slug must have crawled up his leg, then up his body, all the way to his ear. So how long did he let that slug crawl over him before he decided to pull it off? Was it there during nap time, happily sliming it's way across his belly? Was it there during dinner, tickling up the back of his neck? Ew!!!
That same week, Sam and I gave the boys showers instead of baths. He took Tru into our bathroom and I had Jem in the boys' bathroom. I had just helped Jem out when I heard Sam yell to me that he needed the tweezers. He had found another tick on Truett. This was the third one in two weeks. The first two had been on his back. Gross but not a big deal. This one however had made it's home in the last place that any male would ever want a tick to be. You know the place I mean. That place that every little sister seems to target at least once, watching in wonderment and glee as her big brother drops like a rock, only to have Mom and Dad explain that she can't ever, ever hit him there. Or maybe that was only my experience. Anyway, that was the place and if you are still unsure of what I'm talking about, you'll just have to guess. I definitely don't want to write it out and start getting really strange comments on my blog from people who are searching for very different things.
I'm not sure who was more freaked out about that particular tick, Sam or Truett. Can't say that I blame them. "Ew!" doesn't even begin to cover that one.
Finding a slug behind my ear and a tick in an unmentionable place would put me off of being outdoors for a few weeks. But not Truett. He still happily spends a good portion of every day outside, turning over rocks and picking up another salamander or cricket or slug. Just another part of being a boy that I don't quite get.

photo by: luis  http://www.flickr.com/photos/xrm0/151546497/