After smushing a bug at the back door the other day, one of my older boy children said, “what did ya kill mama?” “A dirt dauber,” I replied calmly (my utter terror of spiders does not apply to any other creepy crawly, by the way.) “Why would a dirt dauber want in our house?” he so innocently asked. Oh, the laughter that erupted from my husband.
“What on earth would a dirt dauber want in this house?! I bet he looked through that glass window and said, ‘Ooh, just look at all that dirt in there, I gotta get me some of that.’” And on and on he went. Amusing mainly himself with all the jokes that he could possibly think of to go with “What would a dirt dauber want in our house?”
