Tuesday, May 5, 2009

The Spider Brothers


Last week while Steve was out of town, I had the unhappy privilege of making the acquaintance of two spider brothers; one took over the front porch while the other commandeered the back deck. (I say they were brothers because they looked exactly the same.)

Now these were not friendly, cute, Disney-esque spider brothers—no, these guys were huge and fat and hairy and they scared me to no end. Every time I got the courage to brush one away with a broom (they both built webs on or near the doors) they would be back in a matter of hours. It got to the point where I was paranoid about opening either of the doors to let Snowy out to “do his business” because I was afraid I would run into one of them. So I not only had spider brothers lurking on the outside, I also had a miserable dog lurking on the inside.

Two harrowing days of spider dodging passed. Very early on the third morning, I dragged out of bed and immediately began to dread the pending Spider Brother Brouhaha. However, I couldn't put it off very long because as soon as Snowy heard me rattling around he immediately came to inform me that he had to go outside—NOW!

I thought, “Okay, I am a brave, strong, mature woman who is not going to be an intimated by a relatively petite arachnid. I am not going to cower any longer. I am going to march myself downstairs and I am going to open the front door and I am going to show those spiders WHO. IS. BOSS!"

Snowy accompanied me down the stairs and over to the door—he was one desperate doggie and I’m sure he was eager to assist me in any way possible. Sidling to the door, I took a deep, (hyperventilating) breath, flipped on the porch light and eased the door open about half way. Right there in front of me, dangling two inches from my horrified face was a spider brother.

Oh brother.

I SLAMMED the door shut just as Snowy was getting a fleeting glimpse of the promised land. What his little doggie brain wasn’t able to comprehend, though, was that I would have to walk THROUGH that spider’s web in order to get to his leash so basically, we were trapped. A full-bladdered doggie and I were being held hostage by a dastardly spider in the front of the house and his even more dastardly brother in the back.

By this time, I was starting to get mad. I started to mutter to myself, “Well, enough is ENOUGH! I have HAD it! I am going to declare WAR!

I strode toward the laundry room and snatched the cap off the top of the bug spray with a vengeance. This spider was about come to face to face with a mad momma who was going to defend her little homestead to the death.

I then went into the kitchen and snatched up our broom; with Snowy staying close by my side (and looking more desperate by the minute) I stalked back over to the door. I stood there for a moment and tried to psyche myself up like a professional wrestler might do. I was saying all sorts of mean things about the spider and how I had HAD it, and was not going to TAKE it any more and that spider had better WATCH OUT! Snowy, in the meantime, was eying a corner of our new carpet with some longing which confirmed to me that the time had definitely come to act.

This time around, I didn’t ease the door. No sirree. I FLUNG it open with the most aggressive, spider-fighting gesture I could muster and directed a few bursts of spray in the general direction of the spider. Unfortunately, he and his web were floating around so much that it was next to impossible to zero in on him. After futilely flailing around with the spray a few more moments, I grabbed the broom and began to brandish it wildly in a frantic attempt to knock Brother Spider down to the porch.

I finally succeeded in getting him down only to discover that he was not only moving fast but he was also moving toward the INSIDE of the house! I screeched, “Oh no you don’t!” and chased him around the front porch, yelling and whacking and swinging my trusty kitchen broom like a wild, suburban, Schwarzenegger-type assassin.

It took about ten whacks before I accomplished my goal. Let me just say that Brother Spider had a very severe headache and wasn’t moving very much by the time I swept him off the porch and sprayed around the area with my trusty can of bug spray. FINALLY I was able to hook poor little Snowy out in the yard where his look of desperation morphed into pure bliss. I knew exactly what he was thinking by the look on his face: “Ahhh!”

As I headed triumphantly back into the house, it suddenly occurred to me that any other early risers in our neighborhood would have just witnessed a few very rich moments of unparalleled entertainment. I tried to picture the whole spider incident from their viewpoint: Door bursts open, woman with wild hair and fuzzy, tattered pink sweater (worn over pajamas) appears with broom and spray can. Suddenly, with no warning whatsoever, she begins to behave in a maniacal fashion, swinging her arms like a dysfunctional helicopter trying to get airborne and leaping around madly, whacking the porch repeatedly with a long broom, face contorted, snorting and muttering about spider invasions.

NOT a pretty picture. My triumphant entry back into the house suddenly morphed into a slow slink as I realized how goofy the whole thing must have appeared.

Oh well. All that really mattered was that The Spider was totally, completely, and unequivocally DEAD!

Spider: 0
Maniacal Housewife in Pink Sweater: 1

Tomorrow I take out his brother.

3 Had Something To Say (Just click here!):

Pam D said...

I remember that post! And it had me laughing SO hard, because I've done the same thing. A lot. And yeah, it isn't until the moment is OVER that you realize that people can see YOU, but they cannot see the bug. I can't remember, though.. did you end up killing the other one?

Kristin said...

This really gave me a good laugh. I am the same way. I can not stand big spiders I have to have an entire arsenal of war weapons to defeat a big, hairy, scary spider, but I can defeat the little spiders easily. I did work at a place once where the GUY I was working with was afraid of this spider that was smaller than a pinky fingernail..it was quite comical to watch him get scared over this itty, bitty spider.

Nathan Smith said...

Mom you are crazy...