On one side of our house we have a ravine that is full of various plants. Intermingled with the different bushes and flowers there are raspberries and black berries. I usually take the boys out with me to pick the berries in case I run across a tree frog or a caterpillar that looks like it just can't wait to be carried around in a sippie cup, covered in sticks, fed popsicles, and otherwise tortured for the duration of the day (or until the poor creature arrives at a point where it is barely clinging to life.)

The other day, Jamen was "helping" me pick some blackberries and scanning the vegetation for some animal that needed both the above described treatment as well as a ridiculous name. I had one arm carefully woven between some nasty torned branches trying to reach the next addition to the topping for Becky's birthday cheesecake when Jamen starts yelling at the top of his lungs. I snapped my arm back embedding a few dozen woody thorns into my forearm and prepared to do battle with some deserving wasp or spider, until I realized what the J-dizzle was yelling. "Bugs mating! Bugs mating! Bugs mating! Bugs mating!" I asked him if he knew what that meant. "yeah, that is when the male bug climbs on the female's back and they have little bugs."

I thought I was doing him a favor letting him watch videos on the National Geographic website. I realize now, the only things I have gained are an over-informed 5 year old, a neighbor who wonders what I am teaching my child, and a lifetime addition of blackberry thorns deeply embedded into my bicep.