I’m not sure why, but in our culture girls are “taught” that bugs are icky. Maybe it’s the Little Miss Muffett story, I don’t know. I think today it’s getting better; indeed there’s an episode of ELMO’S WORLD on bugs where a video clip shows us a young girl who loves bugs and can describe some of her favorites. But since my wife is, shall we say, uncomfortable, at bugs, I’ve been worried that this fear would be passed along to my daughters.
Fortunately, since our oldest is into the Magic School Bus stories and videos, she loves to talk about bugs and play with her MSB bugs sets (we’ve got an ant set and a creepy, slimy bug log). We also bought some caterpillars and kept them in one of those special nets until they became butterflies. Our little one actually stepped on a silverfish the other day, rather matter-of-fact, though I think she did it accidentally. Some of the legs were still stuck on her bare feet; it was all I could do to keep my wife from boiling them in hot water and bleach. And about a week ago, the girls caught a tiny spider and set it free into wilderness of the community driveway.
So far I think we’re doing okay, as far as the bug-o-phobia is concerned. Now I have to work out my issues!
Wednesday night, I was up late, writing. I was tired, had a cough, and I think I’d taken some Nyquil and was closing all the lights and heading upstairs to bed; it was about one in the morning. But there it was. A large, black spider, sitting motionless on the floor of my living room, about six inches from my couch. I actually cried out, “holy….” I was taken aback. I watched it, looked it over, and it did not move. Not a leg.
I figured it was dead, but just in case, I went to the kitchen and got the can of Raid and a paper towel. I then decided to bring one of my sneakers, just in case. You never can be too careful.
I sprayed about half the can. Thank goodness it has one of those “eco-friendly” formulas that smells moderately pleasant. The sucker still did not move. Okay, I thought, I’m ready.
I picked it up. It did not squish in my towel.
The realization, at about one in the morning, kicks in: it’s plastic, from one of the Magic School Bus bug sets.
I take it to the kitchen, hose it down in the sink. It’s still reeks of Raid. I wash it with soap, but it still smells, and feels a bit greasy. I leave it on the paper towel to dry. I put a note on the spider: “This scared the *%$#T out of me!!”
While I was pretty sure I’d be the first one in the kitchen anyway, I showed my wife the note when she came down the stairs. She laughed. Turnabout is fair play.
Next time I’ll make sure to wake the girls so they can help me, or mock me, as the case may be.
(Note: the quotation comes from Woody Allen’s Annie Hall.)