Mr D is blatantly and unashamedly insect-ist.
Let me explain.
This morning, Mr D was in the shower, and I came downstairs to the living room to be met by the noise of a deep buzzing drone that sounded like someone was flying a Lancaster Bomber around the room.
I couldn't see the culprit, but whatever it was, it was BIG!
When Mr D came downstairs, and knowing how much he hates the distrraction of buzzing flying bugs in the room, I said, "don't get comfortable, theres a buzzy thing in the living room. It sounds like a really big bluebottle or something."
"Well, it's going to get it's creepy arse gassed," he replied as he disappeared into the kitchen, returning with the can of Raid, and the usual look of slightly demented glee he normally has when he's about to blast a fly into the next life.
We ascertained that said Lancaster Bomber was behind the curtains, and Mr D shook the can of Raid, grumbling 'you're gonna fry!' to the unfortunate bug.
We pulled the curtain back, to find, not a bluebottle, but the biggest bumblebee I have ever seen tangled in the net curtain.
Suddenly the can of Raid was abandoned on the table, and Mr D is scooping the bumblebee off the curtains oh-so-carefully, and chatting away to it as he carried it out into the front garden and into a flowering bush, where it can have 'lots of yummy pollen'.
So yes, apparently, the open-mindedness of our household doesn't extend to our six-legged friends!
Oh well, no-one's perfect!