I used to be alright with spiders. That was until I was about 16 and I woke up to find the most enormous house spider on the wall above my head board, it was so big I had to send help to get the boy who lived up the road to come and get it and remove it. After that I was slightly traumatised by a tarantula which crawled up the wall of our apartment on the beautiful Greek Island of Symi (no one told me they lived there). The locals set fire to it, for days afterwards I had to walk past a set of scorched legs still attached to the wall.
The husband is terrified of spiders, its bad but he has somehow become chief spider catcher. This is mainly because I fiddle about, I cant pick them up and have to deal with them with a cup and a bit of paper. He just squishes and flushes. Mean in some ways, but good for mental health. Especially as I tend to wonder that my little spider charges are heading straight back indoors as soon as I turn my back.
I though the children would be alright. We have tried. SHOW. NO. FEAR. Has been a theme running through my mind and so it worked. A bit. However, genetics are clearly stronger than nuturing as far as the eldest two kids are concerned. Ned however, is scared of woodlice. No idea where this fear came from but it means that he is the prime candidate to be trained up alongside the cat as a sort of spider equivalent to the Ghostbusers. Especially as I can of course arm them with the spider vacuum catcher, much like Venkmans sucky ghost catcher thingy.“Drop everything, Venkman. We got one.” The cat being Venkman in this instance, probably.
Thus with chief spider catcher as his assumed title, I was unsurprised to see Ned out pace all of his peers with his enthusiasm to handle a live tarantula. This was a huge black beastie which brought me out in a cold sweat. Such was his desire to do this task he nearly flattened the rest of the seated 3 year olds. I was proud, then perplexed and I’m afraid I couldn’t get close enough to take a decent picture (see above). He was victorious after the event, proudly strutting about playgroup and receiving praise for his bravery and daring.
So I was surprised when yesterday morning I found him sitting on the toilet in terror pointing at a small spider in the corner of the room. Dashed dreams and hopes…