The Talk. No, not *that* one.

I think I screwed up on “The Spider Talk.”

Recently, Braden and I were sitting at the table eating dinner when he started talking about a spider while staring the Big Eye Stare at the floor to his right.  I looked, and yes, there was a wolf spider near the baseboard a few feet away from him.

I had actually seen the spider run in the door when I was letting the dog out to pee, minutes before we sat down to eat.

“That’s a spider, Mommy, a spider. That’s right, Mommy, THAT’S A SPIDER!”

“Yes, that’s a spider, Braden. It’s okay. The spider came inside because it is very cold outside and he wanted to warm up.”

“Spider came inside because it’s cooooooooold, Mommy.”

“Yes, he did. But if you leave him alone you will be fine.”

“Leave the spider alone!”

“That’s right, leave the spider alone, because if you bother the spider he will bite you.”

His head whipped around so fast it almost flew right off his neck and he stared at me. He took a very serious tone.

“He will bite you?”

“Yes, spiders can bite and it hurts very much.  If you bother the spider, he will bite you and that hurts. So just leave the spider alone, okay?”

He paused, staring at me with a great deal of concern.  Then, he got a bit excited.

“The spider will bite you and it hurts. It weally WEALLY WEALLY HURTS!”

I was starting to worry that maybe I should have just left the whole biting issue alone.

“Uh… um, yes. It might bite you if you mess with it.  And it really hurts.  So leave the spider alone.”

“THE SPIDER WILL BITE YOU AND IT WEALLY HUUUUUURRRTS!”

“Hey, why don’t you eat some more of your fish?”

During the rest of dinner, he kept looking over at the spider, who was still just sitting in his same spot.  He was probably thinking weird stalker spider thoughts.  I have to admit, it was kind of creepy the way he was just chilling there, seeming to stare at Braden.  Maybe wolf spiders like fish.  Maybe they like cute little boys.

I forgot about it and after dinner Braden was in the living room playing and I was in the kitchen making apple cider.

Suddenly he started making a ruckus and ran up to me and started tugging my pants leg frantically, making anxious breathing sounds as he jitterbugged in place.

“Mommy, hold me. Pick me up. Up. Up. Mommy hold me! Mommy, hold me!”

While it’s not unheard of for him to want me to hold him, he is generally not frantic like this about it.

“Why? Mommy is making cider, Braden.  What’s wrong?”

“MOH.MEE.HOLD.BRA.DEN.”

“Why?”

“The spider is RUNNING!!!!” (I could almost hear the implied, “you stupid bitch!” at the end.)

AWESOME. I did NOT instill Spider Awareness and Caution.  Instead I planted SPIDER FEAR ZOMG!

I really don’t want him to be afraid of spiders, just careful.  Then again, I know some parents who can tell you spider fear is probably better than the opposite side of the spectrum.  My parents would likely tell you it’s way better than having a kid who tried to keep a black widow spider as a pet and then let it loose in the house.

And a grade school teacher of mine will probably let you know that it’s totally uncool when a little girl brings said black widow spider to school for show and tell.

But as for Braden’s possible burgeoning spider fear?  If he does decide to go the route of Those Who Fear Arachnids, I may be unable to relate to him, but you need not worry about him feeling alone.  You see, there’s a club around here for Spider Scaredy-Cats.

Previously, there has only been one member.  I might be the only one around here with a real, working vagina, but sometimes you’d wonder.

Maybe they can perfect their girlish shrieks together as a bonding exercise.

I was right in his furry face. And he liked it.

Today’s Photohunt Theme is “Furry”

This is a jumping spider.  He is definitely furry.  In fact, he’s totally sporting kind of a Don Kingesque look.

He makes a great date on a random afternoon.  Because really, what would you rather have in your face at any given time than a plump, furry thing that is prone to jumping this way and that?

(That’s what she said?)

He is bold… daring.  Challenging me.  Coming towards the camera and holding out his front legs, as if to say, “I am not intimidated by your sexy smile and your hot rack. (shut up, he knows where it’s at)  Your sensuous, womanly curves do not make me feel insecure.  I am more man than you have ever met.  Now show me your egg sack.”

But I’m all, “Look, dude, inter-species flirting is really distasteful, and I won’t have that on my blogsite, so you’re going to have to take your rude comments somewhere else.  Furthermore, my egg sack is far too demanding for the likes of you.  You’d never do it justice.  Now pose for me, bitch.”

And then he just shrugs and sits there, thinking it over. 

I stand my ground. In fact, I tap my toe a little, with a slight grinding motion after the tap.

Finally he just gives in and vogues his furry, spidery little heart out. 

Because, really, he knows I can just step on him and call it a day.  He’s smart like that, so he gives me what I want before I move on.

Let this be a lesson.  While I might not show you my egg sack no matter how artfully you woo me, if you get in position when I tell you to, I won’t step on your furry, little head.

(PS: This is clearly a joke, because everyone knows I’m a shameless whore and will show my egg sack to anybody.)