Ants in my Pants...or Skirt

Being caught up in the festivities this weekend, my immigrant husband and I decided to go enjoy the nations largest landbased fireworks show downtown. From the pictures and description from years past, it showed standing room only and said that over a million people in the city attend this show. It's a big deal.

So we took off to make our way down to the show. Being that it started at 9:30 PM and the temperature outside had dropped down to 97 degrees, I decided that I would wear "the shortest skirt I own," in BoySmile's words to ward off some of the heat. Not to mention that it's one of the only things that actually fits me still.

So we took off with the kiddo in tow to find a place to enjoy the show. The traffic actually wasn't bad at all surprisingly, I would venture to say that it was much, much better than CDA traffic on the fourth. Strange isn't it. We parked and started walking in the direction that everyone else was walking and found that there were actually a lot of places to sit on the grass along the bayou. We had left our blankets and chairs at home as we thought it was going to be standing room only (like the pictures showed), but I have no aversion to sitting on the grass, so we did. My husband took off his shirt and laid it down for me like the gentleman that he is and I plopped myself down on it. Deciding that we needed pictures (in the dark) to commemorate this 4th of July together, I broke out the camera and leaned in to BoySmile and the kiddo to take pictures. I felt a poking on my leg, like poky grass. I ignored it and leaned in for another picture. Still the poking. I adjusted the shirt I was sitting on in case the rough grass was getting to me and sat there for a little bit more. Still the poking. I couldn't figure out what was going on. Then I said, "I think something is biting me." BoySmile looks at me and says, "It's just the grass." Oh, okay. Still the poking. I adjust again. What is going on? Then in the street like I see little black things crawling on my legs. I jump up and start shaking out my skirt. This of course freaks out my daughter who can't stand bugs and thinks that they are biting her too. After a few seconds of flipping my skirt up and around to get the bugs off of me I realize that people are watching and decide that it would be better to start walking away before I make a complete fool out of myself. (Although I'm pretty sure it was too late as the looks on their faces seemed to be enjoying the entertainment.) I start walking and shaking. Walking and shaking. They are all up in my skirt crawling all over my booty and biting me. I'm itching and flipping and shaking and saying to BoySmile, "They're biting my ass!" Being the medical professional that he is, whips out his cell phone and starts to go up my skirt with it, (as the cell phone was the only source of light that we had with us). So here we are, two crazies....well at least one crazy freaking out about biting ants, a medical professional up my skirt trying to examine the scene with a cell phone, and my poor daughter who is standing on the trail next to the road saying, "Where am I supposed to go? What are you doing?" I couldn't stop laughing. It was the most hilarious scene that I had ever been a part of. It was one of those things that I wished I could have seen from the outside perspective and taken pictures.

So, I escaped with a few ant bites on the back side, a new paranoia for sitting on the grass in the south, and a good story to tell that made me almost pee my pants from laughing so hard. It was a good time.

We did get to watch the show when we found a place downwind from the bat bridge (it smells like poop....bat poop) and it was a good experience if nothing more than the people watching, AKA large hairy backed men in bandannas and tank tops that are way too small, girls dressed up as prostitutes making out with their Usher-like boyfriends (why bother coming to the fireworks if you aren't actually going to watch them and just suck face the whole time?), and angry cops yelling at the crowds to "Move your CARS!" It was a good experience.