Eeek!

We were on our way to the store the other day and had barely pulled out of the driveway when my older two sons let out a shriek!

Hubby and I both jumped. "What is it?" I said, picturing a giant spider, a hornet, or perhaps a snake.

"Ah! Ah!"

"What is it?" I repeated, louder this time to be heard over the cries of alarm.

"A grasshopper! There's a grasshopper in the van!"

Okay, call me a bad mommy. I laughed. Yes, I laughed at the terror of my sons. In fact, I did worse than that. I turned to hubby and said, "They are boys, right?" I'm used to these same two kids bringing home crickets, caterpillars, and all sorts of creepy crawlies and asking to keep them.

"It's not going to hurt you," I said.

"But it's right there!"

"And it will probably still be there when we get to the store. At which time we will set it free."

Slowly, they calmed down. Then a discussion about the grasshopper's origins began, including speculation that this little traveling guest of ours might in fact be related to a grasshopper Caleb caught last year, named Hopper.

When we arrived at the store, I opened the door to shoo the thing out of my van. Joshua yelled, "No!"

"What do you mean, 'no'?" I said.

"He's my friend, Hopper 2, and I love him!"

I can't keep up! But I explained that he would die if we left him in the car, and they said their goodbyes to the creature that just a half hour earlier they were certain was going to attack them. Something tells me we'll have another Hopper 2 before the weather turns cold.