Pardon me while I scratch -- Dylan and I just returned from Missouri where the highlight and lowlight was "getting up close and personal with nature." 

In typical 5-year old fashion, Dylan could not wait to hike in the woods and throw rocks in the river on my folks' farm. So my mom and I packed up a picnic lunch and headed to a gorgeous spot on my parents' land so remote it's accessible only via 4-wheeler (as in all-terrain vehicle). We came to a stop, launched over a barbwire fence, then trudged down a steep downhill for a good 10 minutes. 

The effort is rewarded with a view fit for Thoreau or Emerson.  We noshed on lunch and then launched rocks to see who could make the biggest splash and who could throw the farthest. I'm happy to report this simple game far exceeds any pleasure Dylan derives from playing with whatever gadget happens to be the flavor of the month.

So serene... so happy... so ideal, UNTIL --Dylan reports "itchy feet" which signals my internal "mom alarm."  I quickly removed his shoes to find that he had an infestation of seed ticks, which is basically the larva of a tick, so tiny (seedlike) that you really have to know what you are looking for. Needless to say, this hasn't made Eric Carle's children's books.

This was bad -- they were all over his body and even in his hair! Growing up as a child in the Ozarks, the best bet if you get seed ticks is to rinse them off as quickly as possible. Luckily, we packed some bottled water in our lunch, which doused my son.  I stripped him down and proceeded to carry him naked up what is now a steep UPHILL on my shoulder to get to the 4-wheeler. It would have been comical had it not been me. Staggering uphill, my back is screaming at me -- almost as loudly as my son -- who can't understand why we must go home RIGHT NOW!

"Mommy, I was having fun!!!" he wails, his loud voice blasting the silence, echoing among the nearby bluffs. "DON'T take me HOME!!! I want to stay LONGER RIGHT NOW!!!"

He's too young to explain the perils of Lyme Disease, and yeah, this has become quite an adventure...

We finally reach the 4-wheeler, race home and he gets an extended bath. Fortunately, our quick action resulted in a few bites on his feet, nothing serious. My mom took a shower and a couple of hours later, it dawns on me I should get one, too. 

I'm too late. My inaction has cost me dearly. I sit here, 3 days later, with sores all over. These rascals dig deep wherever seams meet your body. So my bra and panty lines might as well be marked with a big bulls-eye. Secondary targets were my sock lines and under my arms. 

Lovely. I feel like the child I was in fifth grade who contracted a bad case of poison ivy and can't stop scratching. 

So much for the great outdoors....