Confessions of a Serial Swooper

Dear Mr. Spider,

Try to look at the bright side.  Yeah, so you stumbled into my kitchen and plopped yourself down on my toddler’s sippy cup (gross).  He spotted you.   He announced you.

Oh!  Oh! (pointing) Spider, Mommy!  Right dare!

Just a few short months ago, Mr. Spider, that would have been the end of you.  I would have grabbed a tissue and swooped you up and that would have been that.  The bright side is that…well, that didn’t happen.  The not-so-bright side is that you landed in a home of two young boys.  Two young boys armed with this:

We call it “the bug sucker.”  And, unfortunately for you, you caught us at an extremely rare moment in which the bug sucker actually had a full charge of batteries and, even more amazingly, they knew where to find it.    Uh oh.

Commence sucking and swooooooooosh.  In you go.

Where you are now at the mercy of two very curious children who will inspect you using the fancy magnifying feature of said Bug Sucker.   Like this…

Is that what spider terror looks like up close?  Probably.  But, don’t worry too much, Mr. Spider.  Your time in the Bug Sucker will be somewhat short-lived.  Before you are banished to your new, luxurious home.

This jar.

Hello, Mr. Spider.   It’s now 9:10 am, the boys are at school and you and I are home alone (well, the Lazy Labrador is here, too, but he’s not much company).   You’re, unfortunately, stuck in there with your air holes until roughly 1 pm when the boys will come home to free you.

Hopefully, you can just write it off as a very bad morning.   Like, I said, at least you’re not dead, Mr. Spider.   Right?

So, until 1 pm,

Swooper

_____

Hey Moms and Dads – Here’s the Bug Sucker online, if you’re interested.  We learned the other day that it’s also a very handy tool for picking up empty plastic Easter Eggs strewn across the living room.