Son: (Dropping to the ground and shrieking at an ear shattering pitch because a cicada flew over his head) AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAh!
Me: Dude, sweetie, it just flew over your head you can get up off the pavement.
Son: Is it on me? Is it on me?
Me: No (laughing) it's not on you.
Son: (Standing up) Oh I know. I was just warning YOU cause I know you're scared of the cicadas. So I went "aaaaah" (does scary jazz hands) just to let you know it was over here.
Me: Thanks dude.
For Father's Day we went to a free concert at The Morton Arboretum's Children's Garden. It was a guy on a guitar singing low key children's music to a small crowd. Everyone was hanging out on the grass, sipping their waters and passing ziplocs of goldfish crackers. The relaxing atmosphere broken only by the intermittent and alarming shrieks son would make whenever a cicada flew near him. Seriously, it was so loud the singer just set his guitar on his lap and waited it out a few times. I think people must have thought we kept poking son with a sharp stick every time they turned back around to watch the concert.
Daughter digs the red eyed monsters and would say "icada! icada!" and then imitate her brother by yelling out a halfhearted "ah ah" and laughing hysterically. Son would try to casually walk over by her as she examined a bug but would inevitably end up shrieking and pushing his sister towards the bug as he made his escape. By the end of the concert he was white and shaky.
We braved the biblical plague a little longer because the kids wanted to catch baby frogs. But eventually the idea of eating a bug free Culver's frozen custard lured us out of the arboretum. As I was buckling the kids into their car seats husband said, "Watch out, incoming, I think it landed on your back." and I shrieked. Cause you know, it was a freaking cicada!