Jellyfishing

Here's another story from my vacation to Hilton Head:

My son was playing in the ocean near the shore when he felt something soft rub up against his leg.
He ran out of the water yelling, "Mama, an animal touched me!"

I remained calm, because I didn't want him completely freaking out."What do you think it was?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "It was soft. Maybe a shark!"

I shook my head. "Sharks aren't soft. I can't think of anything soft that might've touched you. Why don't you just hang out at the edge of the water. I'm sure whatever it was will go away."

He frowned. Then he turned and walked down the shoreline. I watched him. After a moment, he stopped and stooped down. He was clearly examining something. I went over to see what it was.

A transparent blob with  short tentacles had washed up on the shore. A jellyfish. My genius son reached down and touched it.

It was my turn to freak out. "Stop, Bubba!" I said. "Jellyfish can still sting even when they're dead!"

"But I just wanted to see if it was what touched me."

I frowned at him. "Was it?"

"Yes."

Then he grinned.  "Mama, can I go jellyfishing, like Sponge Bob?"

"Absolutely not!" I said.

 Oy!  That's all I needed - a trip to the hospital!