Recently, I asked my friend, Leah Nulisch, to do "blue bonnet" pictures of the kids. And that leads us to the story of why I punched my child.
Whelp, we meet on the side of the road where there are an abundance of beautiful flowers and we are all super excited.
We get started and everything is going great!
Even the baby, who is usually my tiny terrorist, is cooperating! What luck! I’m so happy!
So, we get to the end of the shoot. Leah sits the baby in the middle of the flowers to try and snap a couple last minute shots when, ALL OF A FREAKING SUDDEN, ARAGOG FROM HARRY POTTER MAKES HIS FRICKIN’ DEBUT ON HER MOTHER LOVIN’ DRESS!
That’s right folks -- a massive wolf spider has taken my child for its own.
Before I go on, let me say…
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I DO love my children and…
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I have the world’s worst fear of spiders of any size, shape, color or gender.
SOOO. It sees me, I see him, and we lock eyes. I’m stunned. All I can do is stand there making a half scream, half hyperventilating cow noise.
And this is it … fight or flight has kicked in. And I ain’t no chicken. So, I come in swinging. Literally. Me and this dude bout to fight.
I run to my poor, precious child that God saw fit to bless me with and PUNCH HER RIGHT IN THE CHEST where that many-legged-demon was now sun bathing sipping a mojito.
That’s right folks. Mom of the year. I punched my baby. And then, if you please, instead of picking her up like any normal mother that loves her child would do… I dragged her. I grabbed this poor child by her arm and dragged her through this field of flowers; all the while, still making the dying cow noise.
And if that’s not bad enough, WHILE I was dragging my poor, confused and frightened baby, I dropped her TWICE. TWWWIIICEEEEEEE!
While all of this is going on, I still have yet been able to speak anything audible. So of course, Haylee started screaming and crying and running thinking there was a snake, and Leah is just straight up dumbstruck.
So, there we are; Me, a full-grown woman of 32 years old having punched and now pulling a baby around this d*mn field, and my 11-year-old, running and screaming.
Finally, things calm down and I realize a couple things all at once…
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Everyone is staring at us, probably calling the cops on me, the baby puncher.
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The spider has to be gone now so I should probably pick up my crying child.
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Leah still doesn’t know there is a devil bug among us and lastly…
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My oldest is now in full blow tears, panicking and standing on a chair prop for the pictures.
I have at this point officially ruined the rest of the photo shoot.
My oldest was done. Her face now streaked with tears and red from crying, wouldn’t get off the chair she was standing on, my youngest covered in mud and dirt with red marks on her arms from being drug around like a rag doll was never going to let me sit her back down again for her entire life, and both of them traumatized from the events that just unfolded.
And that is the story of how I have ruined blue bonnet pictures probably forever for all of us.
BUT — Let’s be honest here guys. They are lucky I didn’t just turn high tail and run to the car, locking myself in and leaving them all with Satan’s pet.
*Disclaimer: Yes, I punched my child, but I did it out of love. She’s ok. I don’t make that sort of thing a habit and I didn’t hit her hard. It was mostly a subconscious effort to battle my ridiculous fear of spiders and saving my child from being eaten whole.
Here [are] some sneak peek pics Leah sent me and a couple of Leah hard at work. They did turn out really good, the ones we were able to get before the world came to an end.
This post was written by Megan Garcia and reprinted with permission.