While we were waiting for my cousin's wedding to start on Saturday, a rather large bee (or hornet, I'm not quite sure what it was) was flying around my mom. I pointed it out, and immediately Cameron began freaking out. We told him that as long as he was calm and ignored the bee that he would be fine. He slowly watched it circle around us, as it was looking for a place to land.
Eventually, it landed on Jake's cheek, right below his eye. I watched in slow-motion, as Jake reached up and grabbed the bee. He quickly (still in slow-motion though) pulled his hand back and stuck his fingers in his mouth. He'd been stung.
He didn't cry, he didn't fuss, he just held out his finger for my inspection. I saw that the WHOLE stinger had been left behind, and I quickly pulled it out. His finger went right back to his mouth where he quietly sucked on it.
I picked him up and just for the briefest second, he looked like he was about to cry, but he changed his mind.
He didn't even talk about it, until this morning.
He was drawing scribbles on his magnadoodle, and pointed out the things he was "drawing." On one such "drawing," he said, "Mom, I stung." Then he pointed to the picture. There was no crying about it, just the simple statement, "Mom, I stung."
How did I end up with SUCH a tough kid?