Before signing up to be a parent, I knew that there were going to be some interesting stories and situations that should arise due to having children. Growing up I tortured my siblings at times and them me. My parents have an endless array of stories of when I was young and mercilessly taunted and teased them and just in general did things that made no sense to the adult mind.
Listening to my parents tell stories of my siblings and I from when we were younger, it makes me think of the great stories I will have to tell when my kids are adults. To share with possible future spouses, or just to bring up good memories around the dinner table with them.
This is one of those stories...
My son, since day one, has always been a character. He is so sweet and sensitive, but sometimes just does the most random things, particularly during the middle of the night. Since he was little, he has had night terrors and frequent bad dreams. He actually still frequently sleeps in my bed when he is scared.
The other day was no exception to this. It was probably about midnight when Ashton woke me up because he said he had to go to the bathroom. While normally he doesn't wake me up for something as minor as a midnight bathroom break, he indicated he was scared and requested that I accompany him to the door of the bathroom (for those who don't know me personally, the bathroom is literally across the hallway from the bedroom). So I got up, walked him the 4 or 5 footsteps to the bathroom, and opened the door for him. I then asked if he needed me to wait for him and he said no, he was good do go. So I returned to bed and went back to sleep.
The next sound I hear is one of tortured desperation pleading for me to return to the bathroom. The fear was thick in his voice as he tearfully begged for me to return to my post in the hallway. Since I had already made myself comfortable in bed, I hollered across the hallway asking what he needed. He said that there was a spider the size of his big toe and he couldn't make it back to bed. I told him to jump over it to the bedroom. Much to my dismay, his insistence that I help him only increased. So I got up and walked over to the bathroom and looked up to see one of the funniest sights I have seen in awhile.
My eight year old son, who had chosen to wear footie pajamas to bed that night, was standing on top of the toilet, hunching his body in on itself as though he was terrified for his life. It reminded me of those ladies you see on television standing on a chair, just scared as can be, because of a mouse running around on the ground. His legs were squeezed together with his arms holding himself.
I immediately looked on the floor of the bathroom to see this mega spider that threatened my sons well-being. Surprisingly, I couldn't find it. My son points down at my foot and there it is.... The spider of all spiders. Glaring up at me with it's eight ugly eyes.
The spider was located in the hallway. At least three full footsteps from the toilet where my son quivered in fear of a nickel (possibly even dime sized) creature. I quickly grabbed a shoe from the hallways closet and swiftly dealt justice to the beast that would threaten my son's toes (toes that were covered with pj footies).
Ashton insisted I carried him back to bed in case there were more soldiers awaiting him in the hallway. So I picked up my 65 lb. son, red faced and teary eyed, and put him back into my bed.
He slept with one eye open the rest of the night.