Hate is such a strong word, but it works well for spiders – Lake Cowichan Gazette

I try not to say that I hate things because I feel like hate is a pretty strong word. More and more around my kids, I learn to explain why I don’t care about something instead of telling them outright that I hate it.

No more “Gah! I just walked through a cobweb! I hate cobwebs!”

Now that it’s fall, I say that all the time but I try to follow up with, “I don’t hate them, but they come out of nowhere and I don’t care what it feels like when they come in.” my face or my hair,” or something like that.

I hate spiders. Well, I don’t HATE spiders, I don’t care when they catch me off guard or are in places I think they shouldn’t be. I don’t like surprises, especially eight-legged ones.

I have a child who would probably walk a hunter spider on a leash if allowed to. In fact, she found a specialized “spider keeper” box online that she wants me to give her for Christmas so she can have a pet spider. She’s been obsessed with getting this box or making one herself for a few weeks now. My feelings on this aren’t as strong as his, let’s just say that.

My other child doesn’t seem to have my general disdain for spiders, but like me, he certainly doesn’t want to befriend any either.

The other night he and I were at the Sherman Road football pitches photographing a men’s football game on the turf. It was a beautiful fall night, the sun was setting, the air was chilly, but we could still get by in shorts and t-shirts. The game was fun to watch and the sounds of small children playing nearby while their parents watched the game was a delight.

My son hated it.

He was already slightly annoyed that we were ‘working’ on a Saturday night, but one day he’ll realize that if it’s ‘work’, then we’re damn lucky. He was furious that we were wasting our special time together working while his dad and sister were doing other things together.

I told him the more he complained while I was working, the more distracted I would be and the longer I would have to sit there trying to get a clean picture. He was standing quietly in protest when all of a sudden he jumped back and started swinging the hoodie he had tied around his waist against his legs.

“Mummy mummy!” he said, pointing to the floor. “It was crawling up my leg!”

What it was was a big black hairy spider.

The children nearby heard the din and quickly gathered to see what had crawled up my boy’s leg. Another mom came by and used an app to identify her as a banded peach spider. We looked at each other and without words we agreed not to say out loud how much we didn’t like this spider. It was clear that none of us were fans.

The kids though, they poked and prodded him with a felt pen before picking him up with something – even though they didn’t want to touch it.

Eventually, the brave kids moved it from the grass, through the mini-fields to near a gate on the other side of the property. All of a sudden being on the soccer fields wasn’t boring anymore and my son ran away with the spider kids.

After getting my photos, we walked across the empty field and towards the car.

He stopped before crossing the fence crossing area.

“That’s where we put the spider,” he said nervously.

“Book it,” I said as I ran to the other side. He accelerated too.

Once we got in the car I told him I was super proud of him for being so calm when he saw the spider on his leg because I wasn’t so sure I would. would have been.

“Can I tell you something, mom? He asked.

“Of course,” I said.

“That scared me #@$!%! Like that really scared me ^%$#.

I tried not to laugh, and I tried not to make a big deal out of his swear words. But I agreed that it was quite a surprising situation for him and noted that he handled it very well.

(I then told him that I was also very proud of him for waiting to get to the car and somewhere more appropriate to use a word like that. I believe the kids will learn the words with or without me , and it’s my job to teach them where it’s not appropriate to say them – which is pretty much all public places – and a lot of private places too.)

When we got home, we sent his sister and dad a picture of the spider and told the story, but only after he got naked and no spider came home with him. Raw.

“Yuck! was my husband’s response. He texted again saying our daughter hoped we would bring him home to keep him as a pet.

ColumnistComedy and humor

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