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One Tough Arachnophobic
ONE TOUGH ARACHNOPHIC
With the warm days of spring come open windows and doors to let in the warm breezes and fresh California air. Unfortunately, those open doors are welcome mats for all the bugs in the neighborhood to come on over to my house, mainly because they know how afraid I am of them.
Sure, in the day time, when I’m brave and I have the hours of daylight to protect me, I’m rational and know that I’m a ba-zillion times bigger than they are and all I have to do is raise my foot and squish them. During the day, though, I don’t see as much as an ant, nothing. When the sun goes down is when I have my problems. I can’t figure out where they come from. I have an exterminator. Sometimes I wonder if he’s using aracho-pheramones around my house.
Of all the bugs in the world that I’m afraid of spiders can make me jump from a very high place, and spiders are what I have the most of. I am deathly afraid of them. I think they seek me out just to taunt me. Well, last night I saw my very first spider of the year.
I’m sure they’re in my house, but as long as they stay hidden from me in the garage, closets, or deep in the corners of boxes where I don’t have to see them, I don’t mind that they live here.
Last night I was watching TV, I wanted some munchies to go with my TV show, so I went out to the kitchen, when I turned the light on there was a spider scurrying, as if he had on ice skates, across the kitchen floor – toward me. He was a small thing, but my fear made him big enough to cast a shadow on the wall.
I had to think fast or he was going to kill me; well, scare me to death. I had no shoes on, so I couldn’t step on him, I don’t think I would have had the nerve to have his smushed dead carcass under my foot anyway. Just the thought gives me the creeps.
I hopped around the kitchen from one foot to the other as if the floor was made of hot coals. It seemed like he was following me, he stayed close to me as I hopped and screamed, screamed and hopped. I yanked open a cupboard and pulled out a box of Cheez-its. I took aim and as soon as he was still I took out all of my frustrations out on him. I hit him so hard there was nothing left, no spider juice, no spider bones, nothing - job done. The box went to the trash can.
I sprayed floor cleaner on the floor and mopped up my mental image of the spiders smushed body, then I went back to watching my TV show. As I watched I remembered what I originally went into the kitchen for, Cheez-its. The Cheez-it’s that are now sitting in the bottom of my trash can.