conuly

I got attacked by a whole nest of fire ants. Probably my fault, I have no doubt that I kicked their hill over.

I used to think that I couldn't remember it, that I only *thought* I remembered it because I'd heard the story so much. Then I found out that my Bonpapa had been there, which was part of my memory that didn't make sense - I didn't think he could've been there. But it did clarify that it's a real memory.

This comes up because, a few days ago, my sister refered to something as "being like being bitten by fire ants".

I nodded, then pointed out that I didn't remember being bitten. I remember Bonpapa being there. I remember sitting on the floor of the car, crouched up and crying. I don't remember any pain. Not only can I not feel it in my mind, which is normal, but I can't remember feeling it then. I can remember feeling pain for other times I got hurt at very young ages, but not then.

What happened is as familiar to me as any childhood story. I got swarmed on. We rushed home and called the hospital. They didn't know what to do. My mother thought fast, and put me into a bath with baking soda. I didn't die.

I have marks on my legs, not big ones, like chicken pox scars, which we think *must* be from that time.

And all I remember is crouched on the floor of the car, crying, but no pain.