A Little More Catching Up

Here's another one that I hated to lose.  I'm still laughing remembering this.

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I Hate Them, So They Must Die

I'm not talking about people, you sickos.  I'm talking about bugs.  Spiders, to be exact.  Big, ugly spiders, to be quite precise.

I like to think of myself as reasonably hard core.  Showering is preferable, but if made to go without for a period of time I would be just fine.  I have taken my fair share of self defense classes, and feel confident in my ability to kick some ass when the need arises.

Although the need has never arisen, so I could be quite off on that one.

I can be present at the scene of all manner of blood and injury and feel perfectly calm and collected.  Well enough, even, to administer first aid if needed.

And if I were a participant on some Survivor type show, where they dump me in the middle of some God forsaken land and tell me to get to safety or at least survive for several days until help comes, I would do a-ok.

Until I came across my first spider.  Throw a spider in my path and I will run screaming, my arms waving wildly above my head, at a clip the would surprise you.

Because I hate spiders.

And that is why, when I started to step out onto my back porch, and saw two impossibly long black legs sticking up menacingly from the seam on the patio, you had best believe that I halted mid step, hovered myself back into the house, and slammed the sliding door so hard that I am actually really surprised that it's still in one piece.  Then I locked it.  Just in case.

I called T at work right away, watching those awful legs for any sign that it was going to go skittering off into some unknown area of the yard/house, or worse yet, launch itself straight at the door.

T:  Hey!  Just who I wanted to hear from (see, aren't we cute?).

Me:  Where is the bug spray?

T:  We have bug spray?

Me:  Honey!  It's a garage thing.  That's your arena.  Where is it?

T:  I don't know.  Why?

Me:  Because of the HUGE black widow that's staring at me right now.

T:  Where?

Me:  Back patio.

T:  Babe, just step on it.

Me:  ARE YOU CRAZY??  Never mind, I'll find it.

And find it it, I did.  I marched that spray back to the slider, squeaked it open just a bit (no point in giving it an opportunity, right?), and gave it a light dusting of bug spray.  And by light dusting I mean I let loose with a veritable flood of the stuff.  But apparently it wasn't enough, because the stupid spider came leaping out of the seam, legs flailing, all eight of them, running in many circles.

So I sprayed it some more.  Then I put the biggest glass bowl I could find (clear, mind you, so I could keep an eye on it) upside down over that nasty thing.  In the sun.  Did I mention that it was about 107 degrees out?  No, seriously, 107.

So that pretty much did it.  I think I handled that rather well.

What?

Like you wouldn't have done the same thing?!

I have to go buy some more bug spray.