The other “c” word (plus the “n” word)

Sprog 2 has an insect phobia. We thought we got it under control last year (with some expensive professional assistance), but it’s baaaaaack. She refuses to go out in the backyard because THERE ARE BUGS! This sucks because it’s also where her favourite Christmas gift – mini wheelbarrow, rake, shovel etc – is, along with her chooks (we used to collect the eggs together every afternoon, I miss that), the trampoline, the cubby house, the slide and the swing set. All gathering cobwebs. Not that I’ll be mentioning the “c” word around her. When I made her scooter to the shops with me last week, she kept wailing that it felt like “spiders are crawling on me” and slapping at her legs. That’s what she was doing last year, except it was accompanied by lots of running and screaming. At the time, I googled “thinking spiders are crawling on you” and got lots of sites about bad acid trips. Not much help. At the height of her initial anxiety, she yelled one morning that there was a spider on the back of her arm. No, I assured her, there wasn’t. Yes, she assured me, there was. I examined her arm and said: “The only thing I can see is a mole.” Her eyes went wide: “What’s a MOLE????!!!! Arggghhhhhhh!!!!” More running, more screaming. When she finally calmed down (well, enough to hear me), I explained a mole was like a freckle. It can also be a brown furry creature with a hairy nose, but a hysterical five-year-old didn’t need to hear that. I could have done without a huge bush cockroach running up her leg in bed last recently. Bloody wet weather, bloody rainforest-like backyard. Must call Rentakil. I thought chooks were supposed to eat all the cockroaches, then you eat all the chooks’ eggs … I’m going to stop now. I’m really hoping more expensive professional visits aren’t on the cards. Not because they’re expensive, but because I’d hate to see Sprog 2 backslide into uncontrollable fear again. The world should feel safe when you’re five. There’s plenty of time for anxiety later on.

PS Oddly enough, Sprog 1 has become obsessed with bugs lately. She carries a bug catcher with her everywhere, collecting specimens. I’m trying not to read anything into it.

LAST NIGHT’S DINNER:  Leftovers for me, homemade meat pies for the Sprogs. Husband went to a Tim Minchin concert. I chose not to attend after Husband made me watch “Only a ginger can call another ginger ginger” on youtube and I thought it was because I was a redhead. Nup, didn’t get the “n” joke (for those not familiar with the song, rearrange the letters). It didn’t auger well for my appreciation of the night.