I try very hard to hide my fear of arachnids whenever my children are around. I certainly do not want to teach my daughters to shriek and cry at the mere sight of an insect. Or a mouse. Or my pasty white legs in shorts.
If one of my girls happens to show me an 8-legged monster scuttling across a wall, I'll very calmly call to my husband, "Hey, honey, I've got work to do in the kitchen. Would you mind taking care of this spider for me?" which he knows is code for GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW BEFORE I LOSE CONTROL IN FRONT OF THE KIDS.
Yes, I see, sweetheart. Just a little ol' spider spinning his web.
No big deal at all. Let's go now. Quickly, please.
Mommy needs to go to the bathroom and scream into a towel.
Dinner last night: ravioli