When my sons were little, David, who was three years older than Michael, took on a lot of responsibility for his little brother.  Whenever Michael would get in a little trouble, David would take care of him, but when the trouble was something David didn’t know how to handle, he’d say to Michael, “Go to Mom,” as he would guide Michael toward me.

One day, Michael had been out on the back porch with David, and he had found a piece of candy of the porch floor, so he picked it up and put it in his mouth.  What he didn’t realize before he did that was the candy was covered with ants.  Once the candy was in his mouth, he could feel the ants moving, so he went to David screaming.  When David saw the live ants crawling inside his brother’s mouth, he quickly escorted him to me in the kitchen.  I could hear David saying as Michael squalled, “Go to Mom; go to Mom,” in his most encouraging and soothing voice. 

When I saw the ants crawling in Michael’s wide open mouth, I knew I had to get them out, but I couldn’t think what to do.  He wouldn’t understand how to rinse his mouth and spit, so I decided that I’d get his toothbrush and brush them out.  He knew to spit out the toothpaste and not swallow it.  So, I quickly picked him up and took him to the boys’ bathroom to brush his teeth.  I was talking as calmly to him as I could, but it was kind of funny when you think about it.  Still, I did not laugh then because he was clearly terrified.  So was David, for that matter.  I brushed and he spit, and I brushed some more, and he spit again.  Finally, we had the ants out.  However, he was still crying.  I got him to look in the mirror and see that his mouth was clean and clear, but that didn’t calm him.  So, I held him and soothed him and just let him cry while I ran him a bath with Mr. Bubbles, which he loved. 

He finally was in the tub with his bubbles and I was bathing him, and his cries had subsided to a mere hiccup here and there.  I often bathed the boys together when they were young, so David crawled in with Michael.  David and I were singing songs and playing and laughing as we always did when they bathed.  I still look back on those times as some of my favorite times.  But Michael wasn’t joining in, and every time he started to think about the ants in his mouth, he would start crying all over again.

David, wanting so badly to help his brother’s fear said, “Look Michael.  There aren’t any more bugs,” and he opened his own mouth wide to show him.  Michael nodded and seemed comforted knowing that his brother’s mouth was empty of insects.  I assume he looked at David’s mouth as a mirror of his own.  In a few minutes, though, he had tuned up and started crying again, putting his little hand over his mouth.  David then said, “Hey, Michael, stop crying.  Mom got all the ants out.  They’re gone.  And they were just tiny little ants.  Now, if they had been alligators, you’d be in real trouble.”  Michael looked a little confused, but he stopped crying.

Later, when I was putting them to bed, Michael let me know he had continued to think about what his brother said as he started crying again.  “What’s wrong, Baby?” I asked.  He put his little hand over his sobbing mouth and said, “Izzigators.”  That was Michael’s baby word for alligators.  The poor baby had imagined alligators in his mouth, which was even more terrible than ants!  Finally, I was able to get him soothed into a sleep, and as far as I know, he didn’t have any nightmares about ants or izzigators.