Out of everything he could've chosen, he goes for the one thing I can't stand, I can't even look at the ugly grey multi legged creatures.
I tried to force him into the cute little ladybird with 7 spots, of which I recently found out does not depict their age at all. It's more to do with species- seriously, all these years, all these years I've been counting up and declaring ages of ladybug after ladybug only to discover it's not how old they are. I've been cheated, made to look like a simpleton. Either/Or.
Anyway I've waited until boy is in bed and I've done what any person averse to any creepy crawly would do and I've thrown it out. It's lucky it's still living. He will ask where it is tomorrow but I shall cunningly distract him with all the sweets and chocolate I can find- I have weapons at my disposal and I'm not afraid to use them.
I can't keep pretending this is all ok. I hate bugs. But I try hard not to be scared in front of the kids so that they don't grow up like me, screeching and dancing around everytime something touches my skin that isn't human. Mind you, some humans are a bit creepy too.
I once went to the toilet. Well, obviously I've been more than once - but this one time I went in the night and I normally just do it in the dark. I know where everything is that I need to use and wipe so moonlight wee's are normals for me.
But this one time, I put the light on for whatever reason, I lifted the lid to the toilet and sat right there on the toilet seat was a big fat spider!
He had obviously been watching my nightly routine for a while and had lain in wait.
Only this MoFo was one step ahead!
I lit up that room and discovered that spiders evil plan for me and I scuppered that evil plan. Whilst feeling a bit violated in the process mind. Never done a moonlit wee since.
Watching the 7 year old on a fairground ride is another fear I've discovered I own.
She's just started getting into the bigger rides at fairgrounds - she used to be a happy teacup rider but not anymore- she loves them fast and furious now. I used to. Then I got old. And now all I can see are dangers everywhere and I don't like rides anymore. I'm soooo boring.
But I don't want her to end up like me, I want her to feel the fear and do it anyway. Yeah things can happen but if you lived life by that mantra you'd never leave the house.
So, as she stood at the height chart near a 'scary ride' earlier this week and fell a little bit below it, I found myself fluffing up the curly haired thrill seekers hair to make her tall enough to ride - gave her a right frizzy bouffant I did. But it made her 'grow' and she got on the ride.
I was a bit scared watching as she waved her arms around in excited wild abandon instead of clinging on for dear life like I would've been, checking and then double checking the seatbelt and safety bar mechanism but I kept my fear in check so she could have a good time and I popped on my best fake smile that I invented at work incidentally to keep the place looking joyful and fresh.
I guess that's adulthood. Some things can scare you, but when you're the owner of kids you have to dig deep and be brave.
Scared of the dark? Burglars? Thunder? Well suck it up buttercup because you have to make everything an adventure. Your inner scardey cat is meowing like a bitch, but your outer fake strong like bull persona is mooing like your on heat. Do Bulls moo?? I'm not even sure. But I think you know what I'm trying to say.
That said, the woodlouse has still gone. Just knowing it was in the house sat in a torn up grass filled
yoghurt pot made me all queasy and nervous. I know it would've crawled upstairs and watched me while I slept, it just knew I didn't like it, it kept looking at me with its invisible eyes planning to touch my skin in some way.
I dealt with it until tea time but the bravery ship has sailed and if he ever brings one in the house again I'm going to make up some story about how they grow into giant monsters while kids are sleeping, and if they've been naughty during the day the overgrown woodlouse gobbles them up.
A mums gotta do what a mums gotta do.
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