Spiderman

Well, I've suspected it for a long time, and now, here is the proof. Amongst the zoo pictures that Ian's mom sent me was this disturbing document, verifying once and for all that the spider bite I received while I was pregnant with Max was not free of repercussions. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my baby boy is a were-spider. When the moon is a quarter full, and Max has eaten just the right amount of strawberry ice cream, the arachnid comes out. I am trying my best to make my peace with it, and to love my spidery son for who and what he is. Sure, he leaves a lot of inconveniently sticky webbing everywhere, but on the plus side, I haven't seen a fly in this apartment yet, and Max is hard at work making us a spiderweb hammock on the back patio that looks like it will be luxuriously comfortable. We are determined to look on the bright side of the situation, and for Max's sake, I think you should all do the same.