You'd get so mad when the ants would start biting you. Not surprised, not wounded... mad. Someone would rescue you (you'd be about the level of my shoulders... my 8 year-old shoulders) and help brush the ants off you. Once the bites had receded you'd stand there and glare at the tree, check to see whether Mom was looking, and start climbing again.
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Date: 2006-04-14 07:43 pm (UTC)