So last night I'm in the kitchen, minding my own business (and everyone else's) and washing the pots and pans from supper.  My hands are numb from the hot dish water, and my mind is equally numb from viewing the Democratic Convention on TV through the kitchen window.

I think that can be considered some kind of torture method.

Just then, Sister and Little One emerge from the bathroom after brushing their teeth.  They are buzzing and chatting to each other in some high frequency that only dogs and other small animals can understand.  I strain to listen... they sound too engaged- they must be talking about something really good... can't hear them... sounds like static. 

Until, like a fine tuned radio station, they come in loud and crystal clear.  I like to think they dropped their pitch.  The thought that I was actually able to hear them on my own is just too much to swallow.

Little One looks at Sister with innocent eyes.

"Sister, do you know what I do when I find a spider in the bathtub?" 

Surely this must be a dialogue that descended from the bathroom, right?  Nah, not really.  My family has been known to randomly strike a conversation with stuff like this.

And you thought I was weird...

Sister ponders things for a moment.  "No, Little One- what do you do?"

Now, when reading these next few lines, I really want you to read them with emphasis and enthusiasm.  Otherwise you won't properly convey the sheer maniacal pleasure that dripped from the back of her throat like an insidious pool of verbal posion. 

A bit much?  Not when you read what's coming up next.

"Well first, I like to turn the water on him- ya know... scare him a little.  Then, when he's floating around helpless on his back, I like to laugh at him.  Spiders on their backs are REALLY funny.  That's when I sneak attack!!  I jump in the water and squash him like the bug that he is.  The rest depends on my mood.  Sometimes I'll throw him away, but sometimes I'll flush him!"  She stands there, satisfied and happy.

Sister and I exchange worried glances.  My, if that wasn't disturbing!  Especially when you consider that Little One is a seven year old lover of animals.  Clearly, arachnids and insects do not fit her definition of the word. 

"That seems a bit harsh."  Sister says, eyeing her younger sibling with care.

"Why?" She asks. "What do you do when you find one?" 

Sister smiles.  "First I capture him..."

Little One looks hopeful.

"...then I take him outside and let him go."

Oooh, visibly disappointed, she shakes her head.  But wait!   Maybe a thought has come to her?  She muses.  Maybe she can offer Sister a chance at redemption here?

"Ok, but you do touch him with your bare hands, right ?" 

"Um, no... I don't."

Little One gives a huff and begins to walk away in utter disgust before turning back to Sister.

"Pfffft... Sissy."
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  (OK- so it's an ant.  Just pretend it's an amputee spider with a growth problem.  Little One would probably like it that way )