Matthew vs. 1 Ant

My parents house has a split entry. When you walk thru the front door you're greeted by a set of stairs that go up to the main floor and a set that go to the finished basement. You basically enter in between the two floors. At the base of the basement stairs is a large foyer with tile on the floor. Matthew likes to play there since all his cars roll magnificently on the super flat surface. So on this particular day, we were all sitting upstairs watching TV and talking while my son sat down there and played with his cars.

Suddenly he let out a scream. It was so heart wrenching that I was sure he had severed his arm or foot or something devastating like that. In less then 2.5 seconds I displaced Maya from my lap where she was sitting, ran around the half wall adjacent to the stair, flew down 2 flights of stairs and grabbed my son to attempt to stop what every bleeding I was sure I'd find.

NOTHING. There was no blood, the was no broken anything. "Buddy what happened?! Did you get a boo boo?!", while still in tears he sticks up his index finger (which didn't have a mark on it) and said "YA... on my finger" There was nothing but I kissed it anyways. This made him stop crying pretty much instantly. So I put him down and he went back to playing. Then I saw. He was playing cars with an ant. Yes, one of those big red-assed ants. He was tormenting it with the card and the fucker bit him. Serves him right, but that's all it was.

Back up I went. Maya was in the arms of the person sitting next to me and the topic of conversation had shifted to how a 300lb, 6'3" person could have gotten down 2 flights of stairs in 1 step. My response was "I love my son".