in yee-oldey stereotyping days that have obviously long since passed, there were tales of boys who collected bugs, bringing them into the parlor, and showing them, proudly, to their maternal units. reciting a line somewhat like the following:

"Look, maternal unit! I caught a snake! I caught a rat! I caught a bug!"

Of course the stereotype-afflicted maternal unit, being almost-wise, but still in need of a properly reasoned response to offer her child, would put down her diminutive florally painted teacup, promptly consult her manual of stereotypical responses, (because such stereotypical persons never have any knowledge in their own right), read the chapter on creepycrawly things, replaced said manual back onto the bookshelf, dusted it neatly, then pick up her diminutive teacup full of chamomile tea, then would then toss it up in the air and recite her line, to wit:

"EEK!"

at which time the boy would most often be told to put the disgusting, non-furried, unarguably, insufferably uncute thing out of the house and never to allow it to return.

But some were not told to throw the creepycrawly thing out.

Here are my questions: Might the fascination with creepycrawlies, often wrongly characterized as adoration of creepycrawlies, have been a value response to life, even if that life is in tiny creepycrawlies? Might the boys who captured creepycrawlies as pets responded to them with a nurturing instinct?

eta:

Might these boys who acted upon the nurturing instinct even towards uncute creepycrawlies have had a stronger nurturing instinct than people whose drive to nurture is reserved for cutefuzzy animals?