All I can say is: that’s what I get for turning my back for a minute. I went upstairs to tend and feed a crying, not feeling very well Abby, leaving the boys content playing Tinker Toys and watching Sesame Street. Then I got sidetracked, calling the doctor and changing my barf-riddled clothes. You know, mama stuff.
A little bit later, Eric came upstairs, complaining that he was stuck. Stuck on what, I wondered as I began to notice the strange wads of white, floss-like strands trailing off his behind. I went downstairs, following the strands, and it appeared a gigantic spider had decided our play room was the ideal spot to build her new nest. And the bathroom, and my office, and dad’s exercise room, and the laundry room… The boys had gone in my sewing room and found some spools of thread. Lots of spools of thread. And had run around pretending they were Charlotte, spinning webs.
I have no thread left. Do you know how much thread is on a spool? Miles. And I buy the big, commercial cones. Uh-huh. What you are picturing in your head? That’s what it looked like.