Friday morning I was sleeping peacefully, well the 5am garbage truck had already jolted me awake, but my eyes were still closed and I was snuggled into my comforter cocoon. The alarm hadn’t gone off yet, so there was no reason, what so ever, for me to extract myself, except…
I have a boys, boy. Bugs, dirt, sticks, puddles…he is drawn by this magical force that only boys feel to all the above and more. So it is completely logical that at 6:30 in the morning he is trying to catch a spider that has nestled itself into the space between the ceiling and the wall. But being that he is only 8, he isn’t quite tall enough to reach. And of course the next logical thing to do is disturb his peacefully sleeping Mother, and ask her for help. It never occurred to him that he should maybe just let the spider be, or more importantly let Mommy be.
I sniped at him that I was still sleeping and he shouldn’t bother me until after the alarm goes off, 6:45. Hey, 15 minutes is 15 minutes when you’re talking about sleep. He walked out of my room defeated, but then my Mommy spidey sense felt a shift in the universe. He had come up with a solution to fix this himself. YES!!! I love when he actually exercises that beautiful, expensive brain and uses it for good. I was all set to snuggle back in and enjoy those last few minutes before the torturous alarm when off, when I heard the sound of wheels on carpet. He was wheeling his desk chair into the hallway…our second floor hallway.
I quickly jumped up and opened my bedroom door to see him about to step onto his chair, in order to reach the spider. “What are you doing?” was all this sleepy Mom could muster, but he understood my tone, wasn’t pleasant. “Mommy can you get the spider for me?” I hadn’t even wiped the sleepys out of my eyes, and now I am expected to eyeball this spider and capture him in a jar. I did my duty, and kindly reminded my cutie pie that not ever bug in the house needed to be captured. I was hoping the spider adventure was ending there, but alas.
When it was time to leave the house for work, my son, who loves to share, wanted to bring the captured spider with him to show his friends (the boys I nanny for). He packed the captured spider into his backpack and was all set. After we were all buckled and ready to roll, he pulled the spider’s container out of his backpack and began to get upset. The spider was not in the container, or so he thought. Neither of us thought the holes in the top of the container were big enough for the spider to crawl through. Oops! We arrived at work with no spider, but a cool story to tell about having caught the spider.
Upon loading everyone else in the car for school drop offs, my son discovered that the spider was actually hiding in the lining in his backpack. He was so pleased the spider hadn’t escaped. He grabbed the container and proceeded to recapture, at this point, the scarred spider. I’m happily driving along, in complete bliss that I won’t have to hear the whining that was likely to ensue if the spider was not put back in the container. But that ended, as a sharp shriek filled the car. The spider had dropped out of the container onto my son, and quickly disappeared into the crease of the seat.
Really, a spider loose in my car, great! Fantastic! Not only was my peaceful morning interrupted by my two-legged creature trying to capture an eight legged creature, but THERE IS A SPIDER LOOSE IN MY CAR! You all know exactly how this is going to end. Two weeks from now, I’ll be driving along listening to music that is only appropriate when there are no kids in the car, when a spider will slowly lower itself into my line of sight. I’ll scream. And then I’ll say, “What the pickles?”