It didn't go well and I won't be sharing my shame about it all. Just know that it appears I need to grow a pair of ovaries. Daddy took care of it that night when he came home from work. But the screen hasn't been popped in right since.
So last week, Mr. Pants brought me my shoes, a spatula, a towel and gloves and told me I had to "Save it, Mama!" He led me to the window and pointed to a frog stuck between the screen and window pane. I immediately understood that he believed I needed these tools to rescue the frog. It is possible that it is because I was practically in a hazmat suit during my failure weeks before. But I could handle a frog. I love frogs and I would save this little sweet froggins. Yes, I would. I would just need a cup or something to coax him out with. Luckily I had a spatula. I saved the frog and everyone was happy. Except maybe the frog who probably didn't appreciate being accidentally smacked with the screen when it slipped from my fingers. But he survived his spatula rescue and screen slap. Thank the LAWD because Mr. Pants was watching.
Yesterday it was a caterpillar. He came running to me. "Mama, Mama! Ah save him, Mama! Ah save him!" and handed me a glass serving dish. I was to save this caterpillar with a serving dish. And as I carefully pulled on the screen so as to not accidentally release it, slapping back onto the catarpiller and thus murdering it in front of my son, I saw his face. So sweet. Watching it. Willing it to be ok. So intense as though watching a complicated brain surgery. "Careful, Mama", he told me "careful!".
And I have somehow avoided being called to save any spiders. Living on bog land, that's about as improbable as me not peeing in the shower (conserves water!). So it's time to fix that screen. Before I find myself in my makeshift hazmat suit screaming like a child and scarring my kids.
I can't always be a hero. But I'd like to stay one for at least a little bit longer.