Arachnophobia

Ry is funny about bugs.

She doesn't mind gnats fluttering around her head. 
She isn't bothered by mosquitoes eating away at her ankles. 
She enjoys ants and caterpillars and ladybugs crawling on her hands and arms.
She has even killed a few bugs all on her own.

Until the other night.

My husband was called to the girls room (well after they should have been asleep for the night) with an urgent request:  "Daddy, please come up here.  There's a spider crawling on the ceiling."

No sweat.  Tattooed Preacherman Marched right upstairs and took care of that spider.  He's my hero!

About 20 minutes later we heard Ry let out a yell blood curdling scream.  We both raced up the stairs at record speed.  Tattooed Preacherman had his suspicions as to the reason for her screaming--the spider.  Me?  Nope....I didn't make that connection.  Call me a bit slow.

Sure enough, the spider that he had "killed" had actually escaped and was crawling on her bed. 

We rapidly killed the spider and rescued our baby.  We showed her the dead spider and Daddy searched her bed for more while I tried to calm her down.  She was trying to process the situation in her brain and said to us:  "At least I learn that spiders move quickly."  Too cute.

A night of poor sleep was had by all, as she woke up many times.....I can only imagine the dreams she may have been having.

The next morning, she found several spiders in our upstairs.  I expected her to freak out. 

Nope.

She simply said, "It sure is a spidery morning."