It's Just a Little Roachie, Lolly!

OK, disregard the last post where I was all lovey-dovey with Aunt Lolly. After last night, she no longer resides in that warm place in my heart reserved for people who make my life easier. B and I had Bible study, and Lol graciously agreed to come babysit, at the last minute, for both boys, while she was supposed to be helping Mom with Leeze and William. At first glance, she was doing me a huge, huge favor. That being said, I have always remembered the axiom from my tenth grade Economics class - TINSTAAFL - there's no such thing as a free lunch. Apparently, there's also no such thing as a free babysitter. Even if you don't pay her in money, you will, somehow, ultimately pay for her services.
When I left bible study, I called Lol to let her know I was on the way home. She informed me that Reeves was not yet in bed because, even though they had played in his room, read numerous books, and even gone so far as to turn the lights out, he still needed to get up to go potty. No problem. Here's where it gets bad. She told me that when they got into his bathroom, there was, quoting Lol here, "a three foot long roach" in there. Of the numerous ways this situation could have been handled, she probably chose the worst one with the longest lasting consequences for me, the mother. She screamed, grabbed Reeves up, ran out of the room, and slammed the door behind her. Wonderful! Now I have a three year old son who up till now had happily stomped roaches outside with Daddy. Suddenly he is now scared to death of them. He met me at the door with tears in his eyes, telling me about the big, big roach in the bathroom. He was afraid to go down the hall without me holding him. When Bryant walked in later, Reeves, even after having been calmed down, again broke down when telling his father the tale of the giant roach. Somehow sleep finally overtook his fear of the beasts.
I don't know when this phobia will move on, but for Reeves' sake, I hope it's soon. Sorry, buddy, it's tough to live in Charlie-town if you're afraid of roaches. It's kind of like not really liking salt water or drivers who refuse to use turn signals. It's a fact of life here. So, Lol, thanks for that. If it gets really bad, I'm calling you to come over every night to put him to bed! I see now what an evil grin you have in this pic. I wonder if you are even really afraid of roaches or if this was just some sort of sordid plan to make my life difficult....