Kirk and His Love of Eight Legs

Once upon a time, son Kirk had reached the age of majority and much to his dismay, was still residing with his parents.

Sure, we respected his privacy and let him come and go as he chose; however, even though we asked for no rent, we did ask for the common courtesy of a phone call to let us know where he was going to be if he was out of town, or let us know if he wasn't coming in that night.

These are things that are far too restraining to a young man who thinks he's grown up and shouldn't have to check in with the old folks. It's when a parent, particularly a mother, will reword and reinvoke the Mother's Curse, in which children are doomed to have a child just like they were when they were young.

Children pick up phobias from their parents. Sometimes you don't even realize a parent has the phobia - but in my case, the kids knew I hated spiders. Vehemently, with shrieks. Kirk inherited this particular phobia.

Anyway, one lovely June evening, I happened to catch a glimpse of something when the security light popped on. Yep, it was a spider. Smart thing that she was, she built her web around the light, so the bugs would be attracted to it when the light flipped on. I like to watch spiders as long as there is glass between me and them.

The next morning I looked for her, but the web was gone. I was a little sad in spite of my spider phobia.

That evening, I noticed something at the upper corner of the side door where that security light is. Yep, Ms. Spider had built her web again; she must have been successful in her feeding the night before. We watched her off and on throughout the night being careful not to disturb the web when we opened the door. Again, the next morning the web was gone.

This continued for the next several nights, each time the web got a few strands larger, till we began to make sure the dog had been pottied before it got dark so we wouldn't disturb the web once she'd built it for the evening. Soon it encompassed the top third of the door. We watched her, fascinated, as she spun the delicate threads and waited for her several course meal to begin.

Remember Kirk, the cursed child? His young man arrogance did not permit him to give poor old Mom the courtesy of a phone call to let her know he was alive. I simply decided that if there was a problem, the State Troopers would knock on the door, and I went to bed with that mother's ear tuned.

Now, I should probably mention that Kirk is a great guy - always has been. He doesn't drink, he knows how to treat people with respect, he doesnt' have a gutter mouth...well...most times.

We'd gone to bed and were asleep when I heard the door open. *screams and curse words* I hear running down the hallway to our bedroom...and it wasn't normal running, but great big GIANT steps! It took Kirk about seven steps to reach our bedroom door at the other end of the house.

"Where the F**K did that spider come from?????? Why didn't you tell me it was there!!!!!!??????"

Robert and I both sat up in bed and howled with laughter. "How could we tell you? We didn't know where you were and you didn't call!"

The Mother's Curse does work. I've been fond of spiders ever since....but still through a pane of glass.