Flea was upstairs brushing her teeth before bed, when I heard the crash.
“What’s the matter?”
It was one of THOSE nothings. You know the ones that really mean something like, “I just tipped finger paint all over your Tiffany necklace but I want to live, so I’m denying everything.”
I went upstairs to find a bottle of mouthwash had been spilled over the sink and bathroom floor. Flea looked guilty, but she had her excuse all ready.
“There was a spider.”
Sigh. Lately, Flea is going through a phase of deciding she’s scared of spiders. In my view, being scared of spiders is pointless and girls should refuse to be scared of insects on principle. Besides being scared of insects always seems to lead to squealing, which is forbidden in our house, along with whining and getting out of bed before 8am.
I launch into my lecture explanation about spiders. “Look, Flea, unless it’s actually bigger than your head, the spider will be scared of you,” I say.
“Please don’t interrupt. There are lots of spiders in the house at this time of year and they do an important job, eating tiny bugs and flies,” I say, getting into my stride.
“No. Spiders are creatures like everything else and it’s very important to be kind to all creatures. Okay?”
There’s a pause.
“You’re standing on the spider.”