For Our Children

image1Her tiny body rolls into position on the pink and white patterned mattress. She sighs through her perfect lips, and I exhale a breath of relief. She’s asleep. I get to go work, clean, or play with her brother. So many possibilities.

I tiptoe away like a ninja, keeping my eyes on the sleeping sweetheart. One step. Another. Something catches my eye. A small spot behind her crib.

It moves.

I turn around for a closer look.

“Please God don’t let it be a tick,” I pray without sound.

It has four legs on either side of its fat brown body. A spider. I whisper thanks to God but still my heart beats faster.

No doubt it must be killed. I can barely get close enough to squash it, let alone carry it outside to freedom. Besides, the little beast would find a way back into the house like a thief in the night. No, it must die.

But how?

My husband is at work. My brother, a once great spider murderer, lives hours away. My little boy is only four and is as terrified as I am of bugs.

It has to be me.

The spider jerks, moving up the wall then stops. My skin goes hot. I reach for a baby wipe, rip open the cover -silently- and lunge at the horrifying creature. I squish the popcorn wall but the spider escapes.

I jump back, letting go of the wet paper.

Where did it go? Oh no, is it on me?! For a moment I consider leaving it to live another day, but then my little girl moves in her sleep. I can’t leave her with that monster. It could be some nasty, venomous spider with a killer bite. No, I must protect my child.

Feeling very momma-bear like, I grab the baby wipe and search again. I find it hiding on the edge of the floor by the wall. I attack again, trying not to think about what I’m doing.

A black dot appears beneath the white. It still moves. Chills go up my arm to the entire right side of my body. I stifle a scream, grab a baby lotion bottle and roll it over the spot. It crunches.

The tiny, baby spider is gone. Adrenaline recedes as my heartbeat slows.

I tiptoe past the slumbering princess once more. The toilet flushes the bug to its watery grave.

Children have no idea what we do for them.


Parents do many more amazing things than just killing bugs. Do you have any fun, crazy, or sincere stories about what you’ve done for your children? I would love to read them in the comment section below.

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