Emergent. As in, "Mama, can we have a snack?" Or, "When are you going to fix lunch?" "Do we have to take a nap today?"
Today, as usual, needing to file a complaint, they found me in the bathroom.
"Mama! There is a huge spider on the pink blanket in Reagan's room! It looks like a daddy long legs!" (I had a very good idea what spider was lurking since I had lost track of a large wolf spider yesterday in that room. I actually had hoped it found its way back outside.)
"The pink one with the butterfly on it!" (I wanted to make sure that it wasn't the one Reagan sleeps with at night.)
"This one, Mama!" Reagan shouts as she runs into my bathroom with the blanket.
"Don't bring that in here!" her mother shrieked. "Is the spider still on it?! Take that thing outta here!"
Reagan ran the offended blanket back to her room, sat on the floor and started looking for the spider in the folds.
Her mother was horrified. "Baby, what if the spider is still on that thing?! Y'all come out of there!"
But then, across the room, I saw movement. A lone wolf spider was trying desperately to escape from whatever catastrophe was waiting. As it turned out, he had a meeting with a Toddler Size 9 Tennis Shoe. Unfortunately, it had already been rescheduled from yesterday.
Yesterday, I walked into the kitchen where two wolf spiders were sitting, minding their own business, having appeared out of nowhere. Of course, I screamed. Wolf spiders don't creep along the wall. One minute, you're alone with your son in the house. The next minute, they're at a table for 2 in the middle of my kitchen, wondering where the waiter is. I couldn't get to the fly swatter so I had to stomp on them which really creeps me out, even though I was wearing big shoes: my own. Using Reagan's mini-shoe meant I had to be both powerful and accurate...and closer than I wanted.
Someone should invent a shoe on a retractable stick. No need to be so accurate. Or so close.