Yesterday, we did brave the poor air quality for a little lakeshore picnic at nearby West Lake. We had a nice time, despite the thick smoke and even thicker wasp invasion. Kids and picnics equals a lot of greasy, tasty fingers, faces, and pantlegs. It was only a matter of time before someone got stung. Poor little Ollie was sitting proudly up on Daddy's shoulders when all of a sudden his face dissolved into a huge howl of pain. Why little Ollie??? Not that anybody deserves a wasp sting, it's just that Ollie really is just the sweetest soul and shouldn't be exposed to the harsh realities of picnicking at such a tender age! He cried for less than a minute. He probably would have actually cried less than that, too, except that I was trying to shove ice in his face which he was vehemently against.
My little bruiser:
