SPIDER! (He's NOT My Hero)
So tonight there was a GIANT spider in my bathroom downstairs. Like tarantula-sized. At least 4 inches long. I went "eek!" and got Michael.
It's not that I am scared of spiders, bugs, etc...it's just that they give me the willies. I physically shudder at them. I think of spiders and bugs and my skin crawls. They have long legs and many eyes and ugh, I don't want them near me. And I don't want them in the house or touching my things.
Michael goes on and on about how "spiders are our friends" like some bad after school special. I just want them dead. At least the ones in my house.
But especially big honking spiders. If I let one live and they go back outside, I can't stop thinking that they are just gathering up all of their big honking spider friends, saying "Hey, there are some spider-loving hippies in that warm house. Let's be squatters!" I don't like spider scouts and their spider legions. And so they must die.
Of course, we are short on weapons so I had Michael assault the spider with flea spray (you should have seen the look Mike gave me when I handed him flea spray. Kinda like "Exactly what crazy woman did I marry?"Luckily, he humors me.) It didn't work, so I fell back on my handy-dandy creature killer-Windex. I know my family wonders why I always have some on hand, since I'm not great at cleaning. Well, that's why. Windex is the Patron Saint of Creature Killers.
So tonight, I am on Spider Patrol, checking windows, walls, and anything that looks spider-like. I have to check my sheets. I have already had a heart attack about one of Maddy's stickers that fell on the floor and have been warning the cat, with his long black fur to sleep downstairs tonight. He looks at me with his bright, green eyes and swishes his long, furry tail across my leg. A tail that resembles a huge, black, furry SPIDER leg.
Erg. Spiderwillies.
It's not that I am scared of spiders, bugs, etc...it's just that they give me the willies. I physically shudder at them. I think of spiders and bugs and my skin crawls. They have long legs and many eyes and ugh, I don't want them near me. And I don't want them in the house or touching my things.
Michael goes on and on about how "spiders are our friends" like some bad after school special. I just want them dead. At least the ones in my house.
But especially big honking spiders. If I let one live and they go back outside, I can't stop thinking that they are just gathering up all of their big honking spider friends, saying "Hey, there are some spider-loving hippies in that warm house. Let's be squatters!" I don't like spider scouts and their spider legions. And so they must die.
Of course, we are short on weapons so I had Michael assault the spider with flea spray (you should have seen the look Mike gave me when I handed him flea spray. Kinda like "Exactly what crazy woman did I marry?"Luckily, he humors me.) It didn't work, so I fell back on my handy-dandy creature killer-Windex. I know my family wonders why I always have some on hand, since I'm not great at cleaning. Well, that's why. Windex is the Patron Saint of Creature Killers.
So tonight, I am on Spider Patrol, checking windows, walls, and anything that looks spider-like. I have to check my sheets. I have already had a heart attack about one of Maddy's stickers that fell on the floor and have been warning the cat, with his long black fur to sleep downstairs tonight. He looks at me with his bright, green eyes and swishes his long, furry tail across my leg. A tail that resembles a huge, black, furry SPIDER leg.
Erg. Spiderwillies.
posted by waltzingmathilda @ 10:58 PM
2 Comments:
At 6:46 AM,
Anonymous said…
I am sure all will understand the basis of this neurosis if they review the previous psychological ratings especially the one for paranoid disorder. One other thing, she was like this as a child too.
At 7:18 AM,
Kevin Smith said…
You know if you check out urban legends, Michael has just the type of hair that spiders like to nest in.
mmmm nesty hair.
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