Phobi-AAAHHHH
So have I ever told the story about THE spider? The one that marked the exact moment I became an arachnophobe?
In short, I was about 10 years old, vacationing with my parents in Stone Mountain, Georgia. After using one of the public bathrooms I turned to flush the toilet and on the wall behind me, inches from my bare backside, was a spider the size of a dinner plate. (It gives me the willies to even write that.) Ever since that moment I have been afraid of spiders. Not irrationally afraid, just thoroughly creeped out. I think they're sneaky. And knuckly and hairy, with those pokey pincers. Eeek.
Other than that fateful day, I can't say I've had other unfortunate run ins with spiders. Once in college I lived in an apartment with three friends and an unwelcome number of brown recluse spiders. They're sneaky and knuckly AND poisonous. But I don't like to harm or kill them either; I believe in karma, and I don't want to spend my afterlife taunted by oversized, vengeful spiders.
Fast forward to present day. One day this week when I got the mail, a quarter-sized spider repelled out of the mailbox. Thank God I didn't touch it, but its unexpected presence made me jump and squeal.
Too bad I didn't remember the little bugger when I got the mail the next day, in front of Bryon and the kids. As I walked back in the house and handed the pile of mail to Bryon, I felt something wispy and webby on the back of my neck, and I immediately knew it was that damn spider. How it got from my hand to neck so fast I don't know. See? ... Sneaky.
Now the kids have seen me upset - out of frustration or impatience, for example. But I'm not sure they have ever seen the kind of double-time, hot foot, ants-in-my-pants dance I did until I was sure that spider was gone. And even then the writhing and twisting and swatting didn't stop for a couple of minutes. Then I needed a shower.
But Bryon the big weenie didn't want to touch it either so it's still in the house. No doubt watching me and laughing and plotting the right time to creep across my arm or my bare foot or surprise me in a cabinet.
I think I need another shower.
In short, I was about 10 years old, vacationing with my parents in Stone Mountain, Georgia. After using one of the public bathrooms I turned to flush the toilet and on the wall behind me, inches from my bare backside, was a spider the size of a dinner plate. (It gives me the willies to even write that.) Ever since that moment I have been afraid of spiders. Not irrationally afraid, just thoroughly creeped out. I think they're sneaky. And knuckly and hairy, with those pokey pincers. Eeek.
Other than that fateful day, I can't say I've had other unfortunate run ins with spiders. Once in college I lived in an apartment with three friends and an unwelcome number of brown recluse spiders. They're sneaky and knuckly AND poisonous. But I don't like to harm or kill them either; I believe in karma, and I don't want to spend my afterlife taunted by oversized, vengeful spiders.
Fast forward to present day. One day this week when I got the mail, a quarter-sized spider repelled out of the mailbox. Thank God I didn't touch it, but its unexpected presence made me jump and squeal.
Too bad I didn't remember the little bugger when I got the mail the next day, in front of Bryon and the kids. As I walked back in the house and handed the pile of mail to Bryon, I felt something wispy and webby on the back of my neck, and I immediately knew it was that damn spider. How it got from my hand to neck so fast I don't know. See? ... Sneaky.
Now the kids have seen me upset - out of frustration or impatience, for example. But I'm not sure they have ever seen the kind of double-time, hot foot, ants-in-my-pants dance I did until I was sure that spider was gone. And even then the writhing and twisting and swatting didn't stop for a couple of minutes. Then I needed a shower.
But Bryon the big weenie didn't want to touch it either so it's still in the house. No doubt watching me and laughing and plotting the right time to creep across my arm or my bare foot or surprise me in a cabinet.
I think I need another shower.
posted by Romine Family at 9:46 AM
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