Bugs. My kids love them. Yesterday afternoon I was repotting a mum when I discovered a tiny little speckled gecko. It looked so cute just sitting there at the bottom of the pot. I called my daughter over, "Hurry, come see this! Get your brother!" Both kids ran towards me.
The excitement in my voice must have startled the little gecko because that thing flew out of the pot and landed right on my foot. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" I screamed so loud it scared my kids. "What's wrong, Mom? Are you OK?" they wanted to know. "The, the, the lizard is on my foot!" I yelled again.
Both kids looked down and started laughing. The little gecko was quietly sitting there about a foot away from my foot. "Mom, it's just a tiny gecko. You're not scared of it; are you?" D reached down and tried to pick it up. Its tail broke off. N picked up the tail. "Cool, it's still moving!" she said. D picked up the gecko and held it up to me. "Here, Mom. Touch it." I reached out my hand, but for the life of me, I couldn't do it. You see, I grew up with the fear of bugs in me. I was taught to let out a blood-curdling scream and smash any creepy-crawly I saw.
My kids, thankfully, have not adopted my ways. They have opted to go with David's. David loves bugs, too. He picks up spiders and carries them out of the house. Instead of swatting flies, he catches and releases them outside. He has taught the kids not to step on ants, but to observe and admire them. He has modeled respect for these creepy-crawlies and the kids have taken this to heart.
"Come on, Mom. Just a quick touch. You can even close your eyes." I closed my eyes and gave it a quick swipe with my index finger. It felt rough and scaly and a little creepy. The hairs on the back of my neck all stood on end, but I did it! I touched a creepy-crawly! I have never done that before! And I did it all because of my kids. And my husband.
TTYL.
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