Throughout our lives, we should continually learn new things and strive to improve ourselves. At least, that's what I've been told. I'm not always so great at this, but I am pleased to announce that yesterday I saw real improvement in one specific area: my fear of spiders.
Note that I do not use the word arachnophobia. A phobia is, by definition, an irrational fear. There is nothing irrational about being afraid of spiders.
I spent some time outside yesterday, weeding my front flower beds. Caedmon was with me, and at one point, as I walked under the branches of a tree, I thought we walked through a spider web. I shivered and ran my hands over every inch of both my and Caedmon's bodies, brushing off any insect silk.
Awhile later, I was getting ready to make supper. Caedmon was, as usual, perched on my left hip, when I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I turned and looked straight at him, and saw a gray spider scurry across his forehead.
Now, this is where the proof of my improvement lies: rather than screaming hysterically and picking up the heaviest object within reach and obliterating that spider (and thereby maiming my infant son), I merely let out a squeal, did an odd little hop-dance to the Kleenex box, squished the spider, and threw it away.
Victory is mine!
Did I mention the spider was maybe the size of an eraser-head? Or that I used five Kleenexes to crush the life out of that spider?
Does it really matter?
Atticus showed that he is familiar with this little squeal of mine, because within moments of the disposal of the arachnid, he called down the stairs, "I'll come kill the bug, Mommy! Just a minute."
He takes his position as man of the house seriously when Daddy's at work.
Adelaide and I both appreciate it. Especially when one of us happens across an icky bug.