Today Jack came up to me with an ant in his hand. He stated "Ants are friendly little creatures." I'm not sure where he came up with that but it has Little Bear written all over it.
The poor ant was not walking, just sortof twitching. I asked Jack what his ant was named and he said he didn't know. He continued to carry it around for about 10 minutes then came and set it beside me on the armrest of the couch. Still it twitched.
I told Jack that his ant was hurt and that we should probably just squish it so that it wouldn't be in pain. Jack said it wasn't bleeding and he couldn't see an owie. I told him that ants usually run around, but this one wasn't because his legs were probably broken. He looked closer and pointed out that the ant still had legs.
I realized this wasn't really going anywhere so I decided to drop it. Then suddenly "Whack! Whack!" Jack squished him. Then he started to cry. He said he missed his ant. Sad. Fortunately, we've got a million more outside (and actually quite a few inside at the moment.
Above is a picture of Jack with his original ant, may he rest in peace (at least more peacefully than he lived for his final 20 minutes.)
PS If everyone in the world had a Noah, no one would be unhappy.
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