When I was little I loved playing with roly polys - remember those little bugs that curl into a ball?
As an adult, when I have seen them, I have walked in the opposite direction. I'm not actually scared, but they are bugs for chrissake and I'm 33 years old (shut up, you can't prove I'm not 33 still).
But then I had a son. Who is now fascinated with bugs. We saw a roly poly in the park the other day. I took hold of my senses, and crouched down with Brody to look more closely at it. I even tried to sound happy that I was putting my hand on the ground and encouraging the thing to crawl into my hand while Brody watched the scene unfold.
However, the roly poly was not trusting my hand, and refused to climb into it. So I sat back a bit, and gladly retracted my hand from the roly poly's path.
"Guess he didn't want to play with us," I said to Brody, who had been oddly silent during the whole encounter.
Brody then stomped on the roly poly. "Bug, mommy. All gone."
So much for roly poly.