When my 5-year-old granddaughter Lila called me whispering, “Can I sleep at your house? Mommy’s pretending she’s not scared,” I panicked.
Her tone wasn’t playful—it was serious. Calls dropped, texts unanswered. I jumped in the car and sped to my daughter Emma’s house, heart racing, imagining the worst. The porch light was off. The house silent. I barged in, following running water to the bathroom—and heard Lila scream.
I threw open the door… and froze.
Emma, mop in hand, was battling two giant spiders. Lila was huddled in a corner, eyes wide. Emma gasped, “Why are you here?” I replied, “Because your daughter called me scared!”
Emma tried to play it off, but Lila called her out: “You said it was no big deal, but you were whispering ‘oh no, oh no.’”
We all burst out laughing. Later, in pajamas and sharing popcorn, Lila smiled and said, “Next time, I’ll call before the spiders show up.”
Love means showing up—even if it’s just to fight spiders together.