What do normal people do when they see a spider in their house? They might think, “Oh, I need to call the exterminator.”
The spawn is not a normal person. I found the spider hiding in a potted plant in my kitchen. I grabbed a plastic bowl and caught it, intending to release it outside.
She saw me holding the bowl and asked to see what was inside. I, like an idiot, thought “What harm could it do to show her?” and let her see.
Immediately, before I could say a word, she said, in that cute little 4-year-old voice, “I finally have a pet!” And declared that it’s the cutest thing she’d ever seen.
After a lengthy conversation about why it’s a bad idea to cuddle the huge fucking spider (the thing is seriously big), she decided to name it Cookie Jar (dude, I have no damn clue), and I spent the evening googling how to take care of the spider I apparently now own.
Some may remember me mentioning my friend Chevy, one half of the gay couple I almost carried a baby for (and thank God didn’t happen, Ford went seriously crazy). He’s the resident spider/scorpion/gross-crawly-thing expert, so I gave him a call, and discovered that it’s probably a female Southern House Spider, and that feeding it a cricket every week or two is all I need to do.
So tomorrow I’m going to Petsmart to buy a goddamn terrarium thingy and some crickets. For a damn spider. And it’s not even a cool spider, like a tarantula.
But at least now she’s stopped hounding for a dog.
My kid is seriously the weirdest person I’ve ever met.