Hubby and me are both petrified of spiders. Maybe not in the volcanic sense, but I am often glued to the spot, unable to fight or fly. Obviously, when they are medium-sized or bigger.
So… fast forward to this afternoon. Lazy, post-nap Sunday afternoon. Hubby and small boy playing with giant lego on the floor when I hear the all-too-familiar “eurghhh”. It makes my blood run cold because I know it only means one thing. Luckily, it was medium-sized and slow-moving.
Feeling all brave and practical, I call small boy over, asking him to have a look. He cutely obliges, bending to stare at the brown, eight-legged critter in front of him. I, in the meantime, fetch a glass and coaster – the optimum catching device. Spider just sits there and with small boy’s interest waning fast, I give it a polite flick with the rim of the glass. It scurries a few inches and all of a sudden, small boy turns tail and practically runs to the far side of the room, pressing himself up against the glass.
This reaction surprised both of us to be honest. OK, so we are a little prone to overreacting around spiders but we never have in the presence of the 20mth old. After all, we need someone fearless to catch the blighters for us.
After spider was safely in glass, I showed small boy. He eagerly had a look but then trotted off once more, looking a bit uncertain. Could it be that this irrational fear is inherent?