Eeeeeek!

Some people are afraid of monsters under the bed, or of terrorists, or of kidnappers. Some people are afraid of fire or heights or... T is afraid of snakes. For me, it is spiders. I am simply terrified of the critters. I know part of it is that my mother, as a strategy to protect us all from the black widow spiders that are common in Colorado, where I grew up, worked hard to instill a deep fear of all spiders in us as children. With me, it took.

I've come to a place, as an adult, where I can usually cope with the normal, run of the mill spider in the house. The sort of little, bitty spider that comes in, and is pretty clearly harmless. I know that there are those who believe that a house spider is maybe even sort of helpful, but the little ones have come to seem to me mostly a pest -- definately not a welcome guest.

To be sure, any spider that is the size of SPENDING CHANGE, and walking around in places (like the bathroom) where I am likely to be mostly naked, barefoot, and sleepy, is not going to be welcome. I am figuring such a beastie has just volunteered to be dead, not to put too fine a point on it.

So, this morning, when my half awake self was attacked in the bathroom by the spider from hell, I reacted calmly and reasonably like any other sane, sensible, mature adult person would. I screamed like was about to be murdered, and climbed up on the bathroom counter. Of course, I did. Master, still mostly asleep in the bedroom, attempted to come to my rescue, but the now terrified spider had already beat a hasty retreat under the shelf that holds the hand towels. He moved the shelf, but no spider appeared. Shrugging, Master trudged back to the bedroom. What did I expect?

Not at all reassured, I proceeded to try and get on with my morning preparations, while keeping a wary eye on the vicinity of the shelf, where I just KNEW the evil spider was lying in wait... Sure enough, it didn't take long for the monster to make its move. As soon as my pulse had sort of returned to something sort of normal, the spider came scampering out to terrorize me even further. I shrieked again and leapt up onto the edge of the tub.

This time, Master was more awake, and the spider was more bold. Spidey just stood there in the middle of the bathroom snarling at me as I danced back and forth on the edge of the tub, fussing and pleading for Master to come kill it. Which He did this time, mashing the little devil into a crumpled heap of arachnid arms and legs. The carcass was duly scooped up and flushed away, and my shaking, teary, mature, sensible, self was settled and soothed so that I could go on preparing for the day...

Eeeeeeek!

swan