“I can’t go outside because there’s a yellow ladybug.” The four year old has tears in her eyes.
“Why can’t you be outside with a yellow ladybug?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Because yellow ladybugs are poisonous.” Right. Conversation number 76.
“No, they aren’t.”
“Yes, they are!”
“Did Heidi tell you that?” Rhetorical question.
“Heidi does NOT know more about bugs than I do. Heidi is 5. I am 38. I know more about bugs than Heidi does. Yellow ladybugs are not going to bite you. Sometimes, yellow and red can mean that if YOU eat THEM you might get sick. Are you going to eat the yellow ladybug?”
“Then it can’t hurt you.”
Did I win the argument? Of course. Four year old nodded her head.
And then sat at the table, where she is still sitting.
Because I may have won the argument, but I did not convince her, so the battle and the war go to Heidi.
Heidi is the reason my daughter came inside screaming hysterically because she saw an ant. An ant. We do not live in the South. We do not have fire ants. Our ants barely make a mark on the cement and 4 year old, to her knowledge, has never ever been bitten by an ant. But Heidi is afraid of ants so Youngest Girl is afraid of ants, too.
I’ve told all my children that they can pick one phobia and it can not be bugs. So, of course, Quietly Stubborn Streak has chosen to be afraid of bugs. I’ve really got to broaden her friendships.