Insomnia Arachnophobica

Last Sunday morning, Daniel came to find me after he got up.  His complaint was that Mommy wanted him to sleep at least one more hour, but he couldn't sleep in his room, because there was a dead spider in it, and a couple of dead flies.  Already, I found it quite interesting that a lad who has no qualms about squishing insects, nevertheless is too creeped out by the presence of bug "corpses," if you will, in his bedroom, allegedly to the point of being unable to go back to sleep.  And yet, considering that this is Daniel, that kind of paradox is quite plausible.

I asked Daniel how the spider died.  I wasn't pleased with the answer.  Daniel knows that I don't approve of bug-killing - especially spiders.  It's not like we live in Oklabamasippi, or some south-by-southwesterly state, where there are venomous scorpions or black recluse spiders to watch out for.  We live in New Hampshire, where the deadliest force is winter, and the scariest beast on the horizon is the mighty fisher cat.  Moreover, spiders keep the other bugs under control. 

But it turned out that Daniel had a completely compelling reason to kill a spider that invaded his bedroom - and since this is Daniel, again, I believe that he believes it:

"I was afraid it might try to crawl into my mouth while I'm sleeping."

Any boy who thinks like that should never be ordered to go back to sleep...  Needless to say, I gathered my courage and removed the dreaded cadavers from the lad's bed chamber.

(September 6, 2015)