Barking Spiders

What I want to know is does this stuff happen in other people's dining rooms, or is my house...special?

Yesterday morning, my ham-eating husband, my one true love, my soul mate, my more disgusting other half, sat at the breakfast table with our three small children while I worked on rinsing the breakfast dishes and cleaning up the kitchen.

Suddenly, an enormous, explosive noise, for lack of a more delicate word, blasted in the dining room.

Ess: (My three year old daughter. I feel like this is important. I'm not sure why, but maybe it has something to do with my thought that we might try to avoid teaching incredibly offensive behavior to our toddlers.) What was that?
Matt: Barking spiders.
Ess: Barking spiders?
Matt: Yep, did you see them?
Ess: Yes, I saw them.
Matt: Really?
Ess: Yes.
Matt: Did you see them, or did you hear them?
Ess: Um, I saw them.
Matt: You did? Where?
Ess: In your pants, Daddy!!
Matt: (unable to control his mirth) In my pants?? Why would there be barking spiders in my pants?
Me: (at the door with a dishrag in my hand) Seriously? Are you seriously talking to our young, impressionable children about barking spiders in your pants?
Gee: Daddy?
Matt: Yes, Gee?
Gee: Do they tickle?

I have nothing to add. It kind of speaks for itself doesn't it? Stands alone. Like my husband's pants. I just stood in the doorway with a dishrag in my hand, staring. In amazement. Fascinated amazement. I can't wait for one of my children to choose the most inopportune moment possible to ask an adult I don't know well, who has just passed gas, if they can see the spiders in their pants.

Completely obnoxious stereotype alert: My husband is such a boy!