"What!?" you ask.
Yes, I did.
I'm not proud of what happened.
Setting for the Scene of the Crime (sounds horrible, doesn't it?!):
Last night around 8:00 p.m. I was helping Caderyn get ready for bed. He is currently working very hard to stay dry in undies through the night. We are up to night four of no accidents (yeah!) and we've given him an incentive to get to 10 nights total (and hopefully more). So, every night before he climbs into bed he sits on the potty for probably 3-5 minutes in hopes of emitting that last trickle of a tinkle.
While he sits there, I try to give him a little bit of privacy, so I fly around my house trying to pick up toys off the ground.
"You fly, Sarah?" you ask.
Yep. That's pretty much how it is. I kick into hyper-mode and sprint around my house when I have the chance to pick stuff up off the ground or throw an extra load of laundry in. I literally speed walk.
How am I not skinnier?
All of the sudden Caderyn calls, "Mommy, what is this thing on the floor?"
Putting the brakes on I poke my head in to see a GIANT centipede crawling on the floor. Like so big it has its own weather-station. Like so super huge this centipede cries itself to sleep at night on its ginormous pillow.
Anyone get those references?
Aaaaaaaaaah I want to scream just looking at this thing.
I shrieked. Not a little shriek like "Eeek," no, an obscenely loud and embarrassing howl that scared my son.
I hate bugs.
I despise them.
But I mostly hate spiders and centipedes. Those are the worst.
I ran as fast as I could to our mud room and grabbed the biggest and heaviest shoe I could find (thank you Dansko).
I then raced back into the bathroom, still shrieking, and with probably more force than was necessary slammed the shoe down as hard as I could on that bugger.
Caderyn was still sitting on the potty.
After the massacre, I checked to make sure the mongrel was actually dead-- you never know with those things. The juiciness and multiple severed body parts confirmed that I had, in fact, killed it.
Caderyn was a jumble of questions.
"Why did you scream Mommy?"
"What was that thing Mommy?"
"Was it trying to attack me Mommy?"
"Why did you hit it with the shoe Mommy?"
"Why isn't it moving Mommy?"
I tried to answer the questions as best I could.
Of course I tried to put myself in the most positive light possible and played myself off as some great heroine, saving our house from the impending invasion of creepy crawly disasters.
Caderyn listened to my answers, drinking them in.
He blinked at me, scrunched up his face and said:
"Well Mommy, the next time you see a bug just come and get me," he said. "I will put him outside for you. You don't need to scream anymore, I will save you."
He's my savior that one.
P.S. I called the bug guy today.