Caleb is OBSESSED with superheroes. It drives me nuts, namely cos:
– I have to pry his costumes off him using velcro, a pitchfork and chocolate. – I’m just waiting for the day I’m rushing to hospital after he launches himself off the steps, crying “To Infinity, And Beyond!” (or more accurately “Dooo Fiinnny Blonde!”) – I can unwittingly cause the world’s largest tantrum purely by addressing him by the wrong name.
But today was the last straw.
Caleb: “A spider bit me on my head!”
Me: “What? What kind of spider?”
Caleb: “SPIDER!” (crying)
Ella: “A green spider, actually no it was a black spider.”
Me: “A Daddy Long Legs?”
Ella: “Hmmmmm. A Baby Long Legs.”
I check him over – nothing. No marks, no swelling, not even a mozzie bite.
At this point, I’m wondering what’s worse – the embarrassment of taking him to the hospital in a spiderman costume, asking them to check for spiderbites which it turns out are created by my son’s over-active imagination, or how bad I’d feel if I didn’t take him to the hospital and it turned out to be legitimate.
I weigh it up.
Embarrassment.
I chuck him in the shower, wash his hair thoroughly and check him over for again – nada. He seems happy enough and doesn’t mention it again for hours…then of course, comes nap-time.
Caleb: “I can’t sleep.”
Me: “Why not?”
Caleb: “A spider bite me!”
Where’s Venom when you need him?