Tickseed Coreopsis

I love coreopsis, the cheery yellow faces, the light feathery foliage. It makes me happy. And browsing the perennials at our local nursery, I felt satisfied remembering that my tickseed coreopsis is returning even as I forgot it was in my garden.

But what an awful name it bears. . .cut to the scene at our kitchen, where Martin picks up something off our floor, pops it into a tupperware, and says calmly, "I think this is a tick."

Ticks give me the heebie-jeebies. I sent all the children to the bath and Martin disappeared outside, where I assumed he was smashing the tick with a hammer. Instead, he came inside again with the empty tupperware container.

--Did you get rid of it? I asked.

--Yes. (But he looked sneaky).

--You did smash it?

--No, I released it. Shh, shh. . .(because I'm beginning to rant hysterically. Martin has released flying cockroaches, spiders, all kinds of things into the outdoors instead of killing them--okay. But a TICK?)

--YOU GO RIGHT BACK AND KILL THAT TICK!

--I released it into the garden. It's a little garden friend.

* * * *
End of story? So he's really kidding, getting my goat in front of his parents, especially his father, to whom Martin had boasted he was particularly good at goat-getting.

Me? I just have to comb meticulously through three children's heads. And I've got the itches myself.