Tell Me A Story

My kids ask for Steve and I to tell them stories all the time.  We've told the one about Steve's brother Dave getting bit by a dog in his man parts...many times!  We've told the one about Steve's brother Mike choking on a gobstopper.  We've told the one about my brother Sam getting his leg torn open by a jagged tree branch while he was fishing by himself.  Max knows how many points I averaged in my basketball games in high school because he asks all about those legends.  He knows that I collected frogs when I was a little girl/tomboy.  We are fresh out of stories from our past.  The other day Max asked for a CREEPY story.  The only one I could think of was something my Arizona hair dresser told me.  I proceeded to tell him in gory detail about a very large wolf spider that was crawling up her salon wall and when she smashed it with her shoe, hundreds of baby spiders swarmed out because it had an egg sac on it's back.  He stopped me and said, "that's not a creepy story, that's a sad story...all those babies lost their mom."  I guess I'm fresh out of creepy stories too!