Of Spiders and other Spooky Things

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” Author debated

My third child, Robby, is insatiably curious, bright and often anxious. One weekend as we were driving to his friend’s birthday party he offered without preamble: “Daddy, I’d rather have Mamma take me to the party. I get nervous when you take me.” The comment flummoxed me until I realized that Amy’s still and steady presence helps Robby in much the same way it helps me, which makes her like a big, human Xanax for our family. Robby just frets, a form of the “special DNA cocktail of crippling malaise” (said my oldest son) I seem to pass along to my children.

So it didn’t surprise me when, just as I was done tucking the boys in at night, Robby asked; “Daddy, what if a spider drops on me at night?” Before I could answer, Richey from the bottom bunk noted that tarantulas could, worst case, be about the size of his hand. I quickly offered (trying to sound authoritative) that tarantulas don’t hang out in Issaquah; it’s too cold and wet. Without missing a beat Richey chimed in that he is afraid of mean people too. Both quickly agreed that it would be better if there were fewer (or no) mean people in the world. Helpfully, Richey went on to suggest that we couldn’t kill mean people, even though we wish they didn’t exist. “Yea,” Robby concurred. From there, apparently in the “things we wish didn’t exist” frame of mind, Robby noted what an unfortunate development atomic bombs were, and then concluded this anxiety-riff with the observation that death was a bummer. 90 seconds flat; not a word or transition made up.

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