|I Don't Like You...|
I'm not sure why I feel compelled to completely embarrass myself over and over again, but hey, if you can't laugh at yourself...
First, a little background ~ I hate spiders. Hate them.
I'm not really sure why, I think it has something to do with all those legs, but whatever the reason, I freak when I see them. I actually have a full body reaction. I scream, shiver and run (and not necessarily in that order). Put me in a room with snakes or lizards, no big, but spiders....ick.
Well, my story takes place about a decade ago. We had just moved into our new home and I was almost done unpacking all the boxes. The last few were piled up in an unfinished room of the basement, mixed in with a few items the previous owner had left behind. One Saturday morning, my super sweet husband offered to take the kids to the beach so I could get that room cleaned out without interruption. I know it doesn't sound like a dreamy day, but I was actually really excited to get busy and get that task behind me.
With the house finally empty, I headed to the basement. I was in the room for about twenty seconds when I pulled the first box off the floor and froze. Bent over, box in hand, I was virtually face to face with the biggest, blackest, furriest spider I had ever seen in my entire life. I was amazed and terrified all at once.
I wanted to scream and run, or at least shake the willies off, but I was frozen still. My mind, however, was racing. In rapid fire succession, I was bombarded with thoughts.
What kind of spider is this? Is it poisonous? What if it runs toward me? Wait, did it just move? Where the hell is my husband???
Oh yeah, he's helping me ~ at the beach! Crap! More thoughts. If I leave to go get him (because there is no way I am killing that thing!) will the spider run? How can I sleep in the house tonight knowing this monster is running around? What if the kids get near it or the cats?
Oh man, where is my husband?
When I was finally able to move, and seriously I was standing there paralyzed for a good ten minutes, I made the decision to put the box back down on top of the spider to go get my husband. Quickly.
I'm really good in a crisis.
It was a sunny day in late August, so the beach was packed with all of our friends and neighbors. My husband, Mr. Social, was right in the middle of the party and was not enthused about going home to kill a spider.
He would not budge.
My pleas were falling on deaf ears. So...I had to make a really big deal about it.
I grandstanded and explained, very loudly and with hand motions, how huge and horrifying the spider was, one for record books, probably poisonous and definitely creepy. My husband was unmoved. He joked how it was probably really tiny or an ant. I publicly tantrum-ed that I would not sleep in the house if he did not go home and kill it! I would not make dinner or ever go in the laundry room again, ever, until that thing was gone!
Nothing. He was not moving.
It was my lovely neighbors who finally chimed in and jokingly shamed him into going home to check it out. I stayed on the beach with the kids, praying that sucker was still in the spot I had left it.
A little bit later my knight reappeared on the beach, smiling. It was a sign, I was safe. Of course, I had made such a huge deal about the whole thing that everyone gathered around to hear how my husband slayed the dragon.
With dramatic pause and in great detail, my husband explained how he picked up the box and saw the beast. That indeed it was huge and black and covered in a blue-ish fur. He had never seen anything like it. It was, as I had said, chill inducing.
Vindicated, I beamed.
Certain that a tissue was not going to do the job and his flip flops would get too messy, my husband picked the vacuum with the long pole as his weapon of choice. Now, we have a central vacuum system and the suction is really, really strong, so my husband was a little freaked out himself when the spider was stuck on the end of the pole and would not go up. Perplexed, he knocked the spider against the floor and then tentatively pulled the pole a little closer to his face to discover that my scary spider nemesis was, in fact...an old dusty rubber spider ring...which he promptly produced to a beach full of uproarious laughter.
It's been a pretty hard story to live down.
That's ok, I'm good with plastic spiders and at least this time I got to keep all of my teeth and my underwear!
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