I have never been a fan of insects. My poor mother tried very hard to get me to like them. She was always a bit of a tomboy and would pick up bugs, show them to me, try to get me to hold them.
I would run away screaming. I was a girly girl. I think it must be in the genes.
My daughter is much more of a tomboy. My mom would show her bugs, and my daughter would happily take them into her hand. I watched her hold June bugs, ladybugs, pill bugs, and even ants (though I had to put a stop to that since some ants bite).
I tried very hard not to influence my daughter against bugs or heights (two of my least favorite things). I pretended not to be scared of either, but lately it’s proven difficult. I don’t know if there’s something about the weather or we have food out or what, but this last week I have found no less than 5 dead or dying roaches in the house. I have also called the exterminator and moved up our next appointment.
Now, roaches are my husband’s territory. His job is to pick them up and dispose of them. But these five were found when he was either out of town or at work. And three of the five were spotted by Baby Galen’s eagle eye. I had no choice but to deal with them myself. For a still flailing roach, that means I use the vacuum and the longest extension I have to suck the roach up. If the roach is small and dead, I’ll get it with a paper towel. If the roach is big and dead, I do the same thing but I also have to shriek and yell and repeat, “I don’t like it!”
Baby Galen thought that looked like a lot of fun and ran around shrieking and screaming, “I don’t like it!” the next day, that had turned into, “I don’t like bugs. Yucky! Blech.” With the accompanying sound effects.
Oops. Grandma will be so disappointed.
What really creeps you out? Roaches? Spiders? Snakes? I have a friend who cannot stand even the thought of frogs.