I HATE TICKS. They are disgusting and quite frankly, they creep me out. And they seem to be everywhere.
I had heard friends talk about pulling ticks off of their children at one time or another, and I will be honest - I thought these people just didn't practice good family hygiene. I mean, MY boys would never have some creepy arachnid nestled under their skin slurping away at their blood.
My first experience with a tick on a Kimmel was several months ago when I saw Calvin from a far and thought I better take a look at the growing birthmark on his bum cheek at bath time. Imagine my complete HORROR when I later discovered that "birthmark" was a growing tick lunching away on his bottom! I admit - I freaked out. I mean FREAKED OUT. With trembling hands, I took the tweezers to that bad boy, but that bug from hell wouldn't dislodge for anything. I finally had to call my neighbor to come in for back up and get the pediatrician on the phone to a) calm me down and b) talk me through proper tick removal. I was emotionally scarred. Forget Cal's butt - I was marked forever.
Since that terrible day, I have had to remove ticks from strategic places on my husband (yeah, that's love) and this morning Jude had one of those horrible creatures behind his ear. I keep checking Marshall, but either he doesn't have any, or his fur is so thick it keeps me in denial. We do put tick medicine on him. I may start bathing the boys in it.
I love, or have come to accept, most everything about living in the South. But I cannot make peace with those ticks.