I was halfway out of bed when youngest son began his trek up the stairs. He had been elected by his older siblings to let us know that a spider had been sighted in eldest son's room, and Daddy was required to dispatch the errant arachnid.
I followed little man to his big brother's bedroom. All three of them stood in a wide circle around the uninvited visitor.
- "Squish him," said little man.
- "I want to see him when you're done, just to make sure," said young lady.
- "He was walking around on my socks!" said son the elder.
Time out for some context: if at all possible, I generally try to remove insects without shmushing them in the process. I know some situations simply beg for a bug-smacking, but sometimes, I can squeeze in a respect-for-all-life lesson if the little critters cooperate.This morning, this guy did. I carefully walked the guy outside, follower Pied Piper-like by our brood. As I set him down on the lawn in front of the house, little guy said that was too close. So my pyjama-clad daughter skipped alongside me as I walked across the street and gently released our friendly spider on the lawn that abuts the Rockwell-esque school that faces our house.
Happy little voices echoed across the street as our little lady skipped back into the house, her pink socks clashing against the gloomy gray of a quiet long weekend morning.
Happy travels, little fella.