Cactus-Butt

photo by Mr. C

And in yet-another situation I never, EVER expected to find myself in . . . until I had kids:


Mr. C, while adorably wheeling the trashcan back up the driveway after garbage day, managed to brush against the potted cactus growing nearby.  Which resulted in his screaming and jumping around the kitchen for several minutes before Bee and I could ascertain (HA!  ass-certain!) the crux of the problem.

Which then resulted in the following lovely vignette:

Despite the reading glasses and the magnifying lens, it still took Bee about half an hour to calm Mr. C and find all five prickles in the child’s tush.

And, yes: the most-important part of my involvement in the de-prickling was holding the camera and finding the proper angle for the Posterior Posterity Picture.  (Mr. C was very upset when he saw me with the camera; "No!" he screamed, "You're going to put it on craigslist!")

Mr. C was in better spirits once prickle-free, though he tearfully declared that the cactus was bad and that we needed to get rid of it.  And I would have agreed, except that it is the only plant I’ve managed not to kill yet.  So the kid’s just going to have to deal.