Entrepreneurial Spirit

Confession: I live in the South. We have bugs. I don’t like bugs. Summer is a very long season for me. I use my children to kill bugs/spiders. I do not feel guilty. Thank you.

So, we live in the South and we have bugs. This is just life. I have an unrealistic fear and dislike of bugs. I do not, however, want to pass this along to my children. I haven’t done such a great job, lol. They have seen my reactions. Oh, well.

Caleb, however, is my bug killer. He is more than happy to grab a shoe and smash a bug. Unfortunately, he is not always around when I need him so I decided it was time to stretch the girls a bit. (Not including myself.)

A perfect opportunity arose a day or so ago. We had brought a crate from outside into the bedroom. A bug joined us. Mary jumped up and let us all know there was a bug. (Please insert high-pitched girly scream.) Caleb was in the middle of a hair cut being given by Daddy Bug Killer. I felt this was a wonderful opportunity for Mary. She did not agree and kept quite a distance from the bug. Fine. Next in line: Bekah. I tell Bekah to come kill the bug. She looks at me for a moment as if she might refuse and then she finds her inner bug killing gene. She shrugs. Grabs a shoe and then smashes, violently I might say, the bug. Then to reward her for her willingness to save Mary (and me) from the gross, icky bug invader, I pulled a dollar from my pocket as her reward.

Mary was not impressed. Apparently little eyes and ears were paying close attention.

Today a spider somehow became trapped in our oscillating fan. How fun! Mary was keeping a close, but not too close, eye on him. Bam! Suddenly he fell out of the fan and fell dead on the base of the fan. Or not. He was just faking. Sneaky old spider. Mary sees him move. I am “busy” rocking Sam to sleep. (I love being a mom. Really. I do.) I delegate and instruct someone to kill it.

Who do you think jumps up to help? Mary? Oh, no.

Hannah. Yep. My adorable, sweet Hannah. She grabs the closest shoe, steps toward the spider and says to me, “You going to gimme a dollar?”

Um, no.

Thankfully, she still smashed it to little itty bitty pieces and all was right with the world.

She’s persistent. A few hours later she requested a dollar again. I told her I’d give her a dime. She didn’t seem convinced that was a good thing.


Isn’t she a cute little bug killer?

***During the typing of this blog post, guess what happened? A bug flew/crawled/invaded my desk. I squealed, jumped up from my desk and called for Eddie. As he laughed at me and shook his head, he bravely grabbed the bug and squished it to death. I told him I’d give him a dollar when I was done posting. God knew I needed to laugh. And yes, I know I am pathetic and it works for me.

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