PIDER! DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY PIIIIIDERRRRR! HELP!
Just what we need to hear from Beast's crib at 2:18 in the morning. The little guy is so brave...until he sees a spider, or even a bit of cat's fur on the floor, or the shadow of a piece of lint, and he stone cold wigs. Pure existential terror.
PIDER PIDER PIDER JUMPING PIDER DAAAAAADDDDEEEEEEE! DADDY MOMMY DADDY MOMMY HELP! PIDER!
And as I scoop the little guy up to comfort him, all I can think is that payback's going to come a couple decades down the road when I tell his girlfriends what a big scaredy-cat he was when he was 2.