A not-so-funny-to-me-but-funny-to-everyone-else-incident inspired this post last night. We had just gotten Troy to bed and were settling down to finish a movie in the basement (where our TV lives). I was sitting on the floor in a banana chair and Jason was in the big chaise lounger. Here I am minding my own business, trying to watch the rest of Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock Holmes performance, enjoying myself... and out scuttles a HUGE hobo spider from under the TV stand. All I can do is take two hyperventilating gasps and point at it while jumping onto the computer chair and gasping, "Right there!"
**ALERT! ALERT!** Right now, at this very moment, while I'm typing--right now! out races another gargantuan hobo!!! From under the computer desk, where my feet have been! It just made a beeline towards my baby's feet. I grabbed the first thing I could find (Troy's Little Einstein DVD case) pushed Troy out of the way and whacked the life out of it. I grabbed Troy and whatever else I could carry and we ran upstairs, never to return. The carcass is still smushed into the floor. That'll be Jason's job when he gets up, as I'm still shaking too badly to do much. **END OF ALERT**
Anyway, Jason, always my knight in bug-killing armor, armed with the shoe of vengeance and wadded tissue of death, immediately knows what I'm freaking out about and moves deftly into action. (I believe he used the same DVD case I just did). One more spider put out of my misery and flushed, never to show its arachnid legginess again.
There are poisonous spiders everywhere and I'm scared, borderline phobic, of all of them. However, I am particularly disturbed by hobos. They look like this:
Even searching online and saving this picture has made my heart rate skyrocket and made me want to blow chunks. These effers are aggressive, fast, poisonous, and exceptionally sinister looking. I do not go anywhere in my house without scanning the floor, walls and ceiling for creepy crawlies. There are certain places in our basement storage room that I don't even go near for fear of seeing (and subsequently having to do battle with) bugs. Every little tickle on my skin, shadow, or inconsistent groove in the carpet is a potential spider. I spray the inside and outside of my home with anti-bug poison religiously and after these two encounters I will be re-spraying and also throwing a bug bomb down in the basement tonight.
The fact that I have a physical reaction to these creatures leads me to believe that I'm not just being girly about bugs. I hyperventilate, my heart rate goes through the roof, I get sick to my stomach, my eyes tear up, my arms and hands tremble for many minutes after encounters... I can't even pick up and dispose of dead bugs. Jason is such a gentleman to never tease me about my fear or to wave the dead ones in front of my face. I appreciate this so much. I'm not a fearful person; I'm a bit of a thrill seeker to be honest, but we're all allowed our one thing. Spiders and a few other choice creepies are mine. After the one making out to eat my son's foot a minute ago--this means war. Or avoidance, whichever keeps them away from me and mine.
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