For some reason, this one stumped me again and I couldn’t think of a thing until I remembered a little incident I had in the kitchen with Andru about a week ago. First let me start by saying, I really, really, really dislike spiders and unlike some bloggers who post pictures of what they are going to talk about, I absolutely refuse to post a picture of a spider.
I’ve had many such incidents throughout my life but it wasn’t until I became a mom that I really had to start handling it, you know? Before, I could just run screaming from the room and make the husband or the brother or the dad take care of it. And I’m not lying, that happened many many times.
At this point, I’ve taken care of many spiders in my life time. And on one hand it makes me sad, because they are living things too. But then I realize that there’s just something about their creepy crawliness that makes my skin tingle, but not in a good way. It was probably one of my siblings when I was young, but someone told me we actually ate spiders and bugs while we slept. Ugh! Can you imagine? Makes me never want to sleep.
Anyway, I had just gotten home from work and was upstairs changing my clothes when Andru freaks out (I must have given him my fear of spiders). I ran downstairs to see what had happened and he said, “Mom, go look in the kitchen.”
I walked into the kitchen but didn’t see anything. He actually had to point it out to me.
The thing was hanging from the ceiling right by the stove. Now, how am I possibly supposed to dispose of a spider when I can’t smash it with a shoe or something handy around the kitchen. Andru actually went to find a shoe but I said, “If you throw a shoe at it, it will go flying who knows where and then what will we do?”
He did the whole Andru thing where he screwed up his face and thought about it for a second. “That’s true.”
I did the whole weebly wobbly thing where I curled up around my knees and said,”I hate spiders, ew, ew, ew!” but I did the only thing a mom can do in such instances. I grabbed a paper towel and very slowly creeped toward it – those things jump sometimes, I kid you not. I punched my hand out quickly and did a smashy thing with my hand, jumped in the air screaming “ew” and threw it on the ground. Andru ran over with the shoe and was about to finish it off when I said, “Buddy, it’s already squished.”
“Are you sure, Mom?”
I responded by picking it up so he could see how very squished it was and threw it in the garbage.
So yeah, whenever I see a spider, I take a moment to freak out and would say something like “Please excuse me while I freak the hell out,” but it sort of usually goes unspoken.
What is it about being a mom that makes us do things we wouldn’t normally do, like rushing in and killing spiders when our first instinct is to go hide in the bedroom under the covers and pray there isn’t one under there. I don’t know, but I pretty much end up feeling like a bad ass because, you know, I faced that fear and took care of things for my babies, even if it was just a spider the size of the tip of my pinky.
I hope you all enjoyed my spider story that was prompted by SoCS and the word “excuse” brought to us this week by Leigh. Have a fabulous Saturday!