I wouldn't say I'm afraid of spiders. I just don't like sharing my bed with one. Or ten, which is about how many I've seen prancing around the house in the past 24 hours.
Last night I was curled up under the covers, just getting into my crisp new copy of Julie and Julia. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a black object race across our cream coloured carpet, quickly disappearing under the chest of drawers.
Surely that's not a spider. It's too big. OMG, it IS a spider. A huge black one with a fat hairy body the size of a 10P coin. My mind sped along -- did it spend its childhood in my room? How long does it take for a spider to get to that size? Are there (gasp) more of them?! I could just see a family of chunky spiders in the closet, deciding if their nightly entertainment should be duvet crawling or ceiling acrobatics...
Initially I stayed still in bed, planning my next move and waiting for the spider to emerge, the copy of Julie and Julia stuck on page 12.
Then I ran downstairs and rummaged through the utility cupboard. There must be some somewhere. No, no, that's not it. What is this doing here (tub of Pringles). Oh, that's where the sun cream is. This will have to do. I pulled out a rusty can of wasp and fly killer.
I went back upstairs and sprayed the space under the dresser, the oddly pleasant smell of soapy chemicals filling the room. My nemesis came out gasping for air and I followed him down the hall, with my finger firmly pressed on the nozzle, directing a steady stream of white foam. Soon he looked like a flocked Christmas tree. Surely he would keel over any minute. But no, the damn thing kept moving!
Hubby commented that the bug spray was doing more harm than the little spider. Then he said I am teaching the girls to be unnecessarily afraid of them. I just flashed him a fake smile and asked him to get rid of it. Please.
We had to sleep with the windows open.
While we slept the spider contacted his extended family and they launched an all-out attack on the crazy woman with the out-of-date bug killer. This morning I found little wispy web strings connecting my laptop to the desk in an obvious attempt to make my most valued possession unusable. When that didn't work, they tried scare tactics and another whopper charged me at full speed. After nearly spilling my coffee, I beat it with the only thing I could think of, my lambskin slippers. I am leaving it in situ until hubby comes home.
Anyone else enjoying spider season?
