**Except for Weez's, who are so obviously perfection.
Yesterday, we watched as a neighborhood child—a boy, same age as R & V—systematically smashed ants with the palm of his hand and...ate them. He could not be stopped.
"Oh! Don't do that. Come on, don't do that," I chided. His nanny stood by, holding the boy's little brother and sighing.
"I eat 'em!" he yelled. "I eat bugs while they're still alive!!!" He shook a little, a result (I assume) of testosterone coursing through his body.
"He's eating them, Mom! He's eating them." This from my daughters who, like me, are enamored of stating the obvious.
"Okay, okay. Hey, you need to stop that now," I said while silently thanking God that I have girls instead of boys. He ignored me and yelled some more (his voice is incredibly deep) about eating bugs alive, including spiders and mosquitoes. (What about grasshoppers?" Risa asked gently. "Do you eat those?")
Finally, after he'd eaten about fifteen ants, Vida said, "Um, excuse me? What if you were small and the ants were big and they smashed you and ate you? Would you like that, X?"
"I don't care! I don't care! I...EAT...'EM!!!!
At which point, I ushered my children back into the house.