You never know

Isaac is a cautious child. He isn't fearful, but he can be wary, and he generally likes to approach things carefully. This has been true since he was quite small. I blogged about his temperamental tendencies when he carefully practiced his unsupported standing at one year of age, and again when he carefully avoided injuring himself when he began walking two months later.

And last May, when he was two and a half, and I was filling out his preschool application, I answered this question:

Does your child have any special learning or counseling needs? Please describe.

He is sensitive and cautious and is easily impressed by warnings from adults -- too many "be careful"s overwhelm him and make him retreat from the situation, so a gentle touch is needed when explaining potential dangers.

This is still true a year and a half later, as my mother recently proved.

Isaac got ten or fifteen insect bites last week, mostly obtained during our walks in the woods behind our house. (He also got a deer tick bite, but that's another story.) I downplayed the insect bites with Isaac, not wanting to frighten him into refusing to play outside, but I did mention it to my mother. I added that it was nothing new for Isaac, because every time he simply sits in the grass in her yard, he usually ends up with five or ten insect bites.

The day after this conversation, the kids and I went to the Santa Cruz County Fair with my mother and sister. After several hours in the hot sun we needed a break, so we found a nice shady spot of grass, and we all sat down to relax -- all except Isaac.

Why? Because as Isaac was about to sit down with us, my mother made an off-handed remark about his insect bites. It took me a few minutes to realize why he was still standing, but after he continued to refuse my invitation to sit and rest, he finally explained he didn't want to get any more bug bites.

I shot my mother a significant look, and she immediately reassured Isaac that there were no bugs in the grass. He didn't sit down. I asked him, "Do you think we would all be sitting in the grass if there were bugs?" He still didn't sit down. I asked him, "Do you think I would put the baby in the grass if there were bugs?" He still didn't sit down.

In fact, echoing one of my own dearly-despised nervous phrases, used as justification for all sorts of anxious behavior, he said, "You never know ..."

So I grabbed him, tickled him, and wrestled him to the ground, and everything was fine.