Friday Confessions: Who you gonna call? The Husband and/or Delbert McClintock.

Currently it is 88 degrees Fahrenheit in our house, and has been for the majority of this week. Estimated date that our new air conditioner will be installed and working: tomorrow, if all goes according to planned. But when does that ever happen, right?

I’m not complaining, I’m just saying. Ok maybe I’m complaining a little. I know it could be worse. It could be like 98 degrees (and rising) in here and reek of cheese. Pun intended. So while I’m shvitzing away, I’ve thought about removing the food (who needs cold milk or edible sandwich meat?) and the shelves from the refrigerator, then making that small space my own lair of coolness. I can fit. I can make it work. And I will only come out for potty breaks. But before I can start that project I have to finish this post. Just be warned that I’m writing it while in a slight state of delirium.
With that said, on to my Friday Confession. If you’ve ever seen me around the likes of a spider you know that I fear them. I loathe them. I have daggers in my heart for them. The sight of one used to leave me paralyzed and screaming.
I think this phobia dates back to my little three-year old self when I found a spider crawling around in my bed. The devil in disguise is surely what I thought. No wonder twenty some years later my subconscious made be blurt out this. The childhood encounter I had changed the world as I knew it because that’s when I realized spiders were out to get me. And they have been ever since. They seek me out, and find me. And humiliate me. And spit in my general direction. And then, before they are “extinguished,” they have silent telepathic communication with far away spider friends and tell them all about me, and where I can be found. And so the cycle continues.
I’m actually a lot better at facing this foe than I was before. I went from being paralyzed, then to just screaming and running away, then to just muffling an Eek! and walking away quickly, then to Oh my gosh there’s a spider. Husband!, then to It’s not so big? Where’s a shoe? Ahhhhhhhhhh! Nevermind. Husband!, then to Die Sucka! Ahhhhhh! I’m actually quite proud of my progression. I still use the Husband for the particularly gnarly looking ones though. That was article #10 in our marriage contract: Husband must be cheerfully willing to kill and dispose of all arachnids, no matter the time, or the place, or the almost- impossible-to-reach dwelling spots of said arachnids.

I do occasionally relapse into spider paranoia. If I think about the crawly creatures too long, then I start to feel itchy. And spiders that I’ve killed come back in ghost form and creep all over my skin. That’s the only explanation for that. Would you like to know the scariest “It Could Happen In Real Life” movie? That would of course be Arachnophobia.

This movie can get me into a nervous fit every time I see it. Don’t put your hand in the popcorn bowl folks! Oh please. For the love don’t put your foot in that slipper! Why don’t you just leave the light on dearie instead of touching that lamp! Showering teenage girl! There is a massively huge spider on your wet soapy face! But don’t scream or else your dad will rush in and see you in your birthday suit. Lock the door next time! SPIDERS!

Obviously I still have a few issues to work out since looking for spider images on the internet made me want to vomit, and right now I’m feeling a little itchy. I think I’m going to go work on that refrigerator idea of mine.

Do you fear the evil that is the arachnid? Have any stories that are sure to make my neck hair stand on end? Please, do tell.

Hope you all have a very pleasant arachnid-free weekend my dear little poopsies.


Tennessee Mom said...

Okay, those spider pictures totally skeeved me out but I braved them anyway to try to figure out how they related to a blues singer.

After 10 minutes and several read-throughs, my mommy-brain cleared enough to realize it was the exterminator in the movie, not bluesman, Delbert McClinton.

Yeah, I'mma dork.

The redhead said...

Hey. Shout out to the mommy-brainers! Clinton vs. Clintock. so similar it almost doesn't even matter.

Glad my obscure reference was eventually picked up on by at least one person :)

Unknown said...

I loathe spiders. There was a huge black spider with white dots sitting on the brick ledge by my front door. I knew it would get in my house. I called my father 250 miles away, who told me to get out my gun and shoot it! I've been using that comment for the past 20 years!

Sherri said...

Ugh, spiders....I am SO trying to train my daughter not to be afraid of them, but I much prefer someone else kill them...not me.

I have found that my dog likes to eat them, which is gross to watch but saves me.

Sharon Cohen said...

You vant a spider story do you?

Young women's camp, I was adult leader over the 12 year olds. We were in a six man tent. Six girls, one leader. It was midday, hot and humid but we were girls being girls. Laying on our backs staring at the "ceiling" and just talking. Suddenly all the girls saw it. A large, long legged spider. Daddy long legs I'm thinkin) that was walking overhead, upside down above the smallest girl in the group. She shrieked. Heck, everybody shrieked. Except me. I sat up, reached over, pinched the spider's leg between my forefinger and my thumb while simultaneously unzipping the tent with my free hand. The zipper got stuck and without thinking I began to pull my other hand round to tug the tent taught for unzipping. Hmm.

I released the spider (accidently) and it fell on her face. Everybody jumped,
everybody screamed
and everybody tried to exit the tent
through the still closed zipper!

It probably looked awesome to the onlookers.

The redhead said...

Cindy--I don't like guns. But I would consider using one for gigantic spiders.

forty-something chick-That's good of you to try and not pass along your fear. I think it's to late for my children though. They've seen me scream too many times.

Sharon-That is indeed a hair-raising spider story. Not only because you picked up the spider with your bare hand, but also because you braved being in a tent with six girls.

Related Posts with Thumbnails