The other day, I was driving home from my parenting group (or, as Husband likes to call it, therapy). We were nearing the freeway entrance ramp, and The Child starts fussing. Now, I used to pull over all the time whenever she started to fuss, and what would have been a 10 minute drive would turn into a 30 minute drive. That lasted for about a week, and now I just sing show-tunes or silly songs, or she just has to fuss until we reach our destination.
Anyways, fussing ensues, followed my the best Julie Andrews I can muster. Unfortunately, the fussing continues, but I had every intention of just letting her fuss it out. 20 minutes wasn't going to kill her. I checked my passenger mirror to merge into the lane needed for the freeway on-ramp, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. A spider. On the passenger seat, IN MY CAR. And not just any spider...this thing was so hairy, it was borderline mammalian. It wasn't huge, probably the size of my pinky fingernail, but again...the hair. And it was on the move.
Now, a fussy baby is no reason for me to pull over, but a mobile spider-mammal on my front passenger seat most certainly is. Thank goodness for the "last minute" gas station right before the entrance ramp, because I probably would have wrecked the car trying to eliminate the threat on the freeway. I can't have some furry 8 legged creature crawling around, and potentially touching me. Or The Child (I'll admit it, she was the 2nd one I thought about the spider "getting.").
So the furry beast was sent to the Great Web in the Sky, and The Child continued to fuss most of the way home. Well, until I started to sing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider," which, ironically, is her favorite song. I'm not joking.