Careful - Her Bites

A few weekends ago we had carefully made plans to do a barbeque at a nearby park – the one we discovered on Memorial Day weekend. I loved that park. It was clean and pretty, the play equipment safe and not overly busy. I do not typically enjoy parks but this one really appealed to me. So after preparing the food, packing up the van and settling kids into their car seats, we headed off. Thankfully it was only a ten minute drive as when we got there – we discovered that a local festival was taking place. Complete with pop corn stands, cotton candy and people. Tons and tons of people.

Neither Hugo nor I felt like having to beat our way through crowds with so many younger children in tow – no matter how many teens and pre teens we might have to help. So we made a quick u-turn and high tailed it out of there. Within ten minutes we were safely parked in our own driveway again and busily prepping our own little barbeque. After all a picnic is a picnic if you are eating outside.

The kids were happily playing with the badminton rackets that I picked up at the dollar store to make up for not getting to swing and slide at the park and I was happily burning calories right along with them.

The only downside was having to dodge little heads that were often weaving between us and I was relieved when Nathaniel, Emma and Elsa settled down to play near the front porch. Keeping my eye on them, I continued to chase that elusive birdie around the yard with the older kids. After a bit I needed a break and decided to try and catch some snap shots of all the fun we were having.

I snapped pics of kids running and jumping, twisting and giggling and I caught a one of what looked like Nathaniel hugging Elsa. But suddenly there was a high pitched scream causing all heads to turn ensemble, towards the front porch - where I thought Nathaniel had been cuddling with his baby sister.

Instead, there on the side walk was Nathaniel with several fingers stuck in Elsa’s mouth and she showed no signs of loosening her hold on his hand. A pit bull might have had a weaker grip than she did at that moment. By the time I got there she had finally relinquished his hand and Tanny clasped it to his chest and between sobs explained. “She has somefing in her mouth!” Surrounding her, were little crumbs of Styrofoam – lending us a hint as to what she had been so fiercely defending.

We got Nathaniel some ice for swollen little fingers and praised him for his attempt to protect his baby sister. Several minutes later I noticed that Elsa had once more stuffed something in her mouth. As I bent over to try and dig it out, Nathaniel passed by, his bag of ice still offering relief to his wounded fingers.

“Careful!” he warned me, “Her bites!”