When I was young, I would scream at the sight of a spider. They scared me. Plus they were ugly. I would ask my Dad to kill them, get rid of them, make them go away. Sadly, this continued through college and well into my 20s.
When I first became a mom, I decided it would be wrong to pass a fear of spiders to my children. So I stopped being afraid, and I carried the spiders outside, singing a variation of Hello Dolly:
“Hello, Mr. Spider, well hello, Mr. Spider, it’s so nice to see you coming back to town—”
You get the picture. Not a pretty picture (at least not with my singing voice), but certainly better than screaming in fright.
Then my children decided they didn’t like spiders, and they asked me to kill them. So I did. No more Hello Dolly.
The other day, I found a spider, and watched it, wondering what its life was like. It was beige, practically albino. I watched it, then walked away. And let it live.
I guess I’m growing up.