All weekend long, Thing 3 moaned and groaned about the spider in the mini cooper. Every time she got into the car, she looked around for it, and wouldn’t shut up about it. “There’s a spider back here, you know.” “Have you seen the spider?” “You know, spider bites can be serious.”
And on and on and on, in that special way a ten year old has of being so persistent.
The Mister, because
Thing 3’s got him wrapped around her finger he’s the kinder parent of the two of us, actually took time to look for the spider. It remained unfound.
When Thing 3 balked about getting into the car after strawberry picking yesterday, I told her to just. get. in. the. car. now. She replied that she hoped the strawberries would distract the spider.
This morning I got in the mini, put my arm around the passenger seat as I turned backwards to pull out of the driveway, and was somewhat nonplussed to see:
our very own mini Charlotte. And her web.
Let it be known my Juneathon activity did NOT consist of wildly flailing my arms to remove Ms. Charlotte. She is still ensconced in the car. At lunch, my coworkers wondered if spiders succumbed to being stuck inside a car on a hot day the same way dogs do. I will report back those findings tomorrow.
Meanwhile, 5 miles are in the book for today.