Survival Instinct vs Maternal Instinct

Again, I am writing about my lack of maternal insticts when spiders are involved.  Fabulous, absolutely fabulous.

So, it's the 4th of July and I was driving the kiddos to my grandma's house.  We're in the van, I was driving and Rachel was in the front passenger seat with her iPod plugged into her ears.  About halfway to our destination, a fuzzy black spider with white dots simply appeared from behind my steering wheel. ON the steering wheel.

In hindsight, it really was maybe the size of a nickel.  But it was freakin' fuzzy and it suprised the heck out of me.  Which means, at the time of the appearance, That Thing was really about the size of a tennis ball.

Between my hands, which were located at ten and two.  That Thing just crawled into my sight at twelve o'clock on the steering wheel.

That's what? Twelve inches from my face?  Two inches from either hand?  Mind you, I was driving at 55mph on 39th Street right by Lake Overholser.

I did what any NORMAL person would do.

I screamed.  And checked my blind spot as I swerved from the inside lane to the shoulder of the road.  Still screaming.  Unbuckled before the car was stopped, threw the gearshift into park and jumped out of the car. 

I think it took approximately 4.5 seconds from the moment That Thing came into my view to the point I was on the shoulder of the road behind my van shrieking and jumping about like the crazy person I am.

And the kids?  Had no clue what their crazy mom was doing.  As I jumped out of the car, I caught the look on Rachel's face and it was absolute confusion.  And I didn't bother to do anything but scream "spider" with my shrieking voice that she didn't quite understand.

So my daughter, the level headed, somewhat rational person she is, opened up her car door, stepped out and looked at me freaking out behind the van on the side of the road and yelled "What is your problem?" 

I yelled back "spider" and immediately went into my crazy freak out dance just thinking about That Thing.  She shook her head and yelled "where is it?"  I screamed that it was on the steering wheel and that she HAD to kill it.

Rachel yanked her shoe off, in pure disgust, and leaned in on her side.  And promptly backed right out. 

"You kill it!"

I shook my head violently.  "No, you HAVE to kill it.  I can't come back."  And proceeded to do my freak out dance again.

I'm pretty sure she let out the mother of teenage-exasperated-with-her-mom sighs.  If her mother hadn't still been flipping out and making noises, she probably would have heard it clearly.

Rachel went back in for the kill.  Only, I guess she smacked That Thing and it jumped out my side and on to the ground.  But she didn't see where it went, so she was still leaning in looking for where it went.

My brave, brave girl.  Have I mentioned lately how much I love her?  She's the most awesome kid a mother ever had. 

Meanwhile, a SUV pulled up behind me.  Obviously concerned about the crazy lady throwing a temper tantrum behind her van.  I turned and looked at him and then turned back to see Rachel had moved to my open door.  I heard the manly "you okay? you need some help with something?" 

I started to tell him that yes, indeed, I did need help because I couldn't possibly get back into that van, when I turned and saw Rachel beating the ground with her shoe.  Violently beating the ground.

Relief washed over me and I burst into laughter.  Because now I had to tell this nice gentleman that no, I didn't need any help because my teenage daughter just took care of the spider that had been on my steering wheel.

The look on his face was priceless.  Utter disbelief.  But he sort of nodded and rolled his window up and I'm sure I was the opening line to at least one joke at a 4th of July barbeque.

I verified that there was a black carcus on the ground.  I promise you, if she had faked a death and That Thing reappeared in my van, I would have walked away from her and the van.  I might have taken the boys with me, but her?  She'd have been good as dead to me - "you are dead to me now." 

Have I mentioend that I love my daughter?  Well, I do.

I slid back into the driver's side, buckled up and started toward Grandma's house again.  Only now, I had both Rachel and Andy lecturing me that I was to never scream like that again because they thought I had hit a person.  And that I was only allowed to scream while driving if I hit a person or an animal.

Seriously?  I'm supposed to just go "oh, look, it's a spider, I guess we'll have to deal with that when we get to Grandma's house"?  Right.  Yep.  I don't know (or care to know) a poisonous spider from a stuffed spider and I'm supposed to be calm and rational when I could die within moments?  No, sirree, I do not think so.

To sum up this amusing little anecdote, I abandoned my kids in a car with a potentially dangerous creature and refused to defend their lives.  I made my eldest one responsible for her and her brothers' safety, while I maintained a safe distance from That Thing.

Again, my maternal instincts are stinkin' awesome.