Hypocrite.

There.


I said it.


Calling my own self out on a shameful act I committed this very morning, folks.


I am a hypocrite.


Right in front of my son's own horrified eyes (not really), I smashed a spider with the bottom of a drinking glass.


Remember, kids, the boy and I are right smack dab in the middle of reading "Charlotte's Web" every night, talking about how God created all the animals and bugs, how all creatures have feelings, how not all spiders are bad, etc., etc. And then I go and smash a creepy looking spider. Oh, the shame of it all.

Now to be fair, I must tell you that this spider was:

1. in my house and not outside where he should have been. (Even Charlotte A. Cavatica knew better than to go traipsing in the Zuckerman's farmhouse where she might not have been welcome.)

2. watching me and circling me. Oh yes, he was. Freaked me out. I don't care if I am 9,228 times the size of him (I totally made that number up, so don't go a-Googlin' it, kids). He was watching me, and I I did not care for that one little bit.

3. extra creepy looking -- black with small white stripes and neon green markings below his eyes. (Which I now realize means he is some sort of a jumping spider and completely harmless and friendly, and considered a favorite among arachnid enthusiasts. Thank you, Google, for the extra guilt trip.)


photo source


Unfortunately for this spider, I have:

1. had bad experiences in the past with the nasty "wolfies" that visit our house every spring. ("Wolfies" is my own personal term of endearment for the ginormous brown wolf spiders, often 2-4" in diameter, people, that apparently are not poisonous but their bites hurt like a mother. No, thank you. And yes, I have proudly slayed those tarantula-sized spiders every spring, shuddering and shaking for weeks after. {Insert extra shudder here.})

2. had to be the man of the house for the past three weeks as the husband has been business trippin' it up across these United States. And I ain't no man. I am a girly girl in the fullest, and spider killing is not my thing. But as the temporary man of the house, I know when to step up to the plate and save my family. Ha.

3. the HBJ's when it comes to spiders of any sort. (The "Heebie Jeebies" for all you folks not in the know.)

So, I must submit this here apology for the world to see. I am, in fact, quite sorry for my actions this morning in taking the life of one of Charlotte's own.

Amen.