Order Horizon

Varieties of stress

Corwin got a tick yesterday, somehow. It was on his upper left back shoulder. I messed up getting it off and left the head in, so I had to go in after it. Corwin, who normally whimpers in pain during our rough housing before I make actual physical contact bore up very well, not crying or even mewling while I dug in to his skin with very sharp metal instruments.

Later, however, Mom made him cry during violin practice by forcing him to play a section of a song several times.

So, for Corwin —

• Ten minutes of gouging a tick head out of his shoulder with sharp pointy metal bits — stoic suffering in silence.
• A couple of extra runs through a musical passage — unendurable.

Truly, music is a cruel master.