From a young age Jackson has always adored bugs. When he was just older than one I bent over to show him his very first ladybug. He took one look and promptly popped it into his mouth. But in all seriousness, his fascination is one that may exceed the bounds or normalcy.

A little over a year ago, Jackson refused to let me kill 2 gargantuan flies that had taken residence in our home. He woke up each day asking me first thing...'where's the bugs?' He followed them all around the house until one day he was saddened to learn his fly friends had passed on.

He touches, messes with, and holds any bug he can find. I have to kill the bugs, not to keep them out of the house, but to keep my child from tormenting them and in turn spreading all kinds of who-knows-what bug germs to the world.

He stops to inspect an speck of dust, paint, or nail that resembles a bug, just to check. He regularly points out the nails in our walls, so that I know they are just nails, not bugs. Just in case I was disappointed.

When we moved to Wisconsin I tried to lock the door leading to the garage because he would often wander out into the garage to search for bugs, and play with the ones he knew were dead. Blegh.

From the smallest gnat, the the largest butterfly, Jackson is entranced.

Until now.

Saturday while on a walk in Chicago, Jackson got up close and personal with one of his favorite bugs. The bee. In his attempt to swat a bee of his hand, he screamed out in pain as the bee stung him on the thumb. He was hysterical.

Things just haven't been the same with bugs and Jackson.

Whenever he sees a bug he goes into panic mode 'Mom, is that a fly? Is it? Is it going to land on me? Close the door! You are letting the bugs in!!' Yesterday before exiting the car, he refused to get out until I had closed the garage door. Today he saw a bee buzz around me and his face went white. He started to breathe heavy and he showed a pure fear that I have never seen before. We ate lunch in the car, so that the bees wouldn't get us. Sometimes he asks to play frisbee or catch inside so that we don't have to deal with the bees.

I do like the healthy fear of bugs he has now. But sometimes I wish for the carefree Jackson back. The one that doesn't mind running outside in the grass, or rolling in the sand. Maybe as the memory of the tramautic bee sting fades, Jackson the bug-lover will return.

Now if I could just figure out what to do about the obsession with airplanes...