...because last night as I was walking through the house turning out the lights, there was a brown spider on the wall right behind the switch for the lamp. It was the last lamp of the night. All the other lights were out. Lance was asleep, I had finally gotten the kitchen in some semblance of cleanliness and put his toys away and was eagerly heading to bed. As I switched off the last lamp in the dining room on my way to the bedroom, there it was.
A little brown spider. He was just a little guy, not even an inch long.
(Remember, I'm home by myself because hubby is out of the country attending his grandfather's funeral. It's just me and Lance. No strong protector man to kill spiders and get things off the top shelf for me.)
And I remembered.
I was in high school. In the hallway outside of the band room. Band kids were wandering around in various stages of undress, some with uniforms half on and half off, hats hanging down their back, undershirts and boxers poking out, instruments casually tossed about in an effort to GET THE HECK OUT OF THE HOT BAND ROOM AND OUT FOR BURGERS after the football game.
There was a teeny, tiny, barely visible spider.
Clarinet player Tiffany saw it. She shrieked. The sea of band kids in various stages of undress parted, allowing her a clear path to run to the door and out of the building.
And I laughed.
I laughed a lot.
It was just a little spider. This girl was freaking out. It was ridiculous.
Then last night, a similar spider was on my wall. I remembered Tiffany and smiled, grateful that I'm not afraid of spiders.
A little brown spider. He was just a little guy, not even an inch long.
(Remember, I'm home by myself because hubby is out of the country attending his grandfather's funeral. It's just me and Lance. No strong protector man to kill spiders and get things off the top shelf for me.)
And I remembered.
I was in high school. In the hallway outside of the band room. Band kids were wandering around in various stages of undress, some with uniforms half on and half off, hats hanging down their back, undershirts and boxers poking out, instruments casually tossed about in an effort to GET THE HECK OUT OF THE HOT BAND ROOM AND OUT FOR BURGERS after the football game.
There was a teeny, tiny, barely visible spider.
Clarinet player Tiffany saw it. She shrieked. The sea of band kids in various stages of undress parted, allowing her a clear path to run to the door and out of the building.
And I laughed.
I laughed a lot.
It was just a little spider. This girl was freaking out. It was ridiculous.
Then last night, a similar spider was on my wall. I remembered Tiffany and smiled, grateful that I'm not afraid of spiders.
9 comments:
And I bet you never thought such an incident from those long gone band days of yore would ever help you regain perspective whilst terror awaited you at the 8 respective hands of an arachnid... That sentence had 35 words.
Spiders turn me into a shrieking pile of goo. The funny thing is that if I see a spider outside I am not scared, but if it is in my house I am.
It's funny; if my husband is home, I will freak out and scream for him to come get the spider.
If I am home with the girls alone, I have no problem taking care of it myself.
And if it's a black widow, he freaks out but I have long experience and know just how to get rid of it, no problems there.
I wonder what that says about me.
I'm not scared of spiders, either.
It's funny how everything becomes much more dramatic when my husband isn't home, though.
I'm not afraid of spiders, either. However, if that had been a mouse, rat or snake, I would have headed for the hills. :-)
LOL! I read cthis post outloud to my husband b/c he is slightly aracnaphobic (sp?). I'm glad the spider was small, and that you and Lance are fine. :-)
The pictures of Jackson's room are finally up! Come and see! :-)
Haley
Spiders don't typically scare me, unless they're fairly big or poisonous. Now scorpions, that's another story. Those extra pincher things on them just make them way more scary. And a tail, with a stinger, hello, scarier still. I'm shivering just thinking about it.
Oh I hate the things...and nothing will push you into handling things like having a helpful husband out of the house! The band story is one I could relate to...I might have gone to school with "Tiffany's Sister".
:-) Susan
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