It always makes me wonder that children make up "monsters" to fear. Like, dudes, just watch Animal Planet or take a look outside--plenty of creepy, gross, poisonous, weird stuff to choose from.
Last night the boys were in their pj's (ok, their undies because my children refuse to wear any more clothing than they have to) playing a video game with Andy as we all kind of lounged and soaked up the last little bit of lazy of the day. Until they heard the ice cream truck.
HOW they knew it was an ice cream truck I have no clue. We have never really lived anywhere that an ice cream truck frequents. But, those melodious, repetitive, tinny notes got them all (including Andy) on their feet, scrambling for pants, and out the front door.
I leashed Buddy and met them in the drive way as they returned with their loot: two sno-cones, a drumstick, and an ice cream sandwich. I suggested eating on our front porch as it wasn't raining and/or sweltering and I feared for the cleanliness of the carpet if sno-cones were allowed inside. We settled into chairs. Well, Andy and I did. The boys paced, danced, wiggled around the front porch like a couple crazies.
And then Matt made a bee-line to my chair.
"Mom," he said, "I think there is a poisonous spider over there. A blackwidow."
Cue my eye roll. And Andy's. In Matthew's eyes, everything is dangerous/poisonous or at the very least primed for attack. So he pointed. We looked.
And I freaked.
Yep.
Big Spider.
Yep.
Red hour glass shape on the abdomen.
But it was brown. Not black.
Still freaky. Still poisonous. Still dead as a door nail after Andy bashed it a few times with his size 13's.
I may or may not have worried on our house being invaded by spiders as I tried to fall asleep. May or may not have scoped out all the corners and floor boards and ceilings in the baby's room before putting him to sleep. Five times.
Last night the boys were in their pj's (ok, their undies because my children refuse to wear any more clothing than they have to) playing a video game with Andy as we all kind of lounged and soaked up the last little bit of lazy of the day. Until they heard the ice cream truck.
HOW they knew it was an ice cream truck I have no clue. We have never really lived anywhere that an ice cream truck frequents. But, those melodious, repetitive, tinny notes got them all (including Andy) on their feet, scrambling for pants, and out the front door.
I leashed Buddy and met them in the drive way as they returned with their loot: two sno-cones, a drumstick, and an ice cream sandwich. I suggested eating on our front porch as it wasn't raining and/or sweltering and I feared for the cleanliness of the carpet if sno-cones were allowed inside. We settled into chairs. Well, Andy and I did. The boys paced, danced, wiggled around the front porch like a couple crazies.
And then Matt made a bee-line to my chair.
"Mom," he said, "I think there is a poisonous spider over there. A blackwidow."
Cue my eye roll. And Andy's. In Matthew's eyes, everything is dangerous/poisonous or at the very least primed for attack. So he pointed. We looked.
And I freaked.
Yep.
Big Spider.
Yep.
Red hour glass shape on the abdomen.
But it was brown. Not black.
Still freaky. Still poisonous. Still dead as a door nail after Andy bashed it a few times with his size 13's.
I may or may not have worried on our house being invaded by spiders as I tried to fall asleep. May or may not have scoped out all the corners and floor boards and ceilings in the baby's room before putting him to sleep. Five times.
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