Where angels fear to tread

Had a couple of lovely ladies (plus sprogs, obviously) over for lunch today, so decided to create some shade for the little ones to play under.

Jamie was very excited once told that we would be making a giant tent in the garden. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that the part of the shed where the gazebo is kept is totally infested with enormous, man-eating spiders. As soon as the shed door was opened, the horrible monsters started scuttling about (Jamie - "look mummy, they're all wiggling! Shall we touch one?!"). I spent 15 minutes stood looking at the cobweb covered doorway, shuddering, telling myself to stop being ridiculous, go through the door, grab the gazebo and run back out again. However, the problem with irrational fears, is that you cannot rationalise them, and as much as I know that the spiders can't hurt me (although having seen the size of some of them, I have my doubts), I'm told that they're more frightened of me than I am of them, I still cannot go anywhere near the evil eight-legged minions of satan. While I was stood having this internal debate with myself, my 3 year old son took matters into his own hands, stomped past me straight into the shed and started passing me the various components of the gazebo, while surrounded by the monstrous beasts. And I let him. I am a bad, bad, bad mother.