Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Adventures of an Amateur Spider Fighter

  

    Spiders are a pretty common phobia. Then again, I’m scared of just about any insect; especially grasshoppers. I grew up in the middle of the country, in a tiny trailer located smack dab in the middle of a cow pasture. In places like these, grasshoppers were abundant, and got as long as your arm (yes I’m exaggerating). My dad used to catch them, chase me around with them, and then throw them on me. I never fully recovered from that, and still to this day have a mild panic attack at the mere sight of the hoppy, green nuisance. I digress. Typical girlie girl behavior would always come out in my cozy little household where bugs or rodents were concerned. Mandi, her husband Rushy, their little one Jaxon (who might have been 3 at the time), and I all lived in a gorgeous double-wide together. Jaxon had gone to spend his usual Saturday night with his aunt Jackie, and Rushy was on duty at the police department overnight. For Mandi and I, this meant we had the opportunity to go out and have our grown up lady fun at the bar.

    We’d been there no more than an hour or so, dancing and catching up with friends, when Mandi realized Rushy had texted her. “Emergency. 911. Call me”, was all the text said. People, let me express how important it is that there is an actual emergency when you text someone a message like that. She stepped outside to call him, and came back looking irritated. After a good bit of beating around the bush, and starting sentences that made things sound absolutely bleak, Rushy finally explained that Jaxon was throwing up, so we needed to go get him. Not exactly “emergency 911” material and he’d scared us to death!  We drive from Jacksonville to Beebe and pick up a paler-than-usual, pitiful Nugget (aka Jaxon), and drive him home. We no more than walk inside than he hurls on the floor. Again—no biggie. After we've cleaned up the mess, bathed the child, and gotten ourselves comfortable, we parted ways for bed. I told Mandi if she needed me to come wake me up.
I’d just climbed into bed and was snuggling down under the covers when there was a knock on my bedroom door. I opened it and was greeted by a very pale, wide-eyed Mandi with a sleepy Jaxon on her hip. “What’s the matter?” I asked, worried that a hospital trip may be in order. “There’s a spider on my pillow!” she cheerleader-whispered. What exactly it was that she expected me to do, I don’t know, but not wanting to deal with the eight-legged critter myself, I quickly blurted out, “Well kill it!” Eyes still wide, she shook her head and said she could not. Insert sigh of resignation and acceptance of fate. I collected all I would need to achieve the task of assassinating the spider.
Equipped with oven mitts on both hands, a foam bat from Jaxon’s room, and a broom, I puffed out my chest and slowly walked to Mandi and Rushy’s bedroom. I didn't see it. Where did it go?? “It’s right there!” Mandi whispered, pointing. Nope. Still didn't see it. Giving me a slight shove, she pointed again. “RIGHT. THERE!” When she shoved me, I stumbled a bit, and this must have amused the spider, because it did it’s creepy little spider shuffle, which scared me to death. I took a deep breath, gathered my bearings, and ran toward it, bat and broom raised high! I swung the broom down onto the spider with all I had. And it bounced. Off of the bed and onto the floor where it scurried.

    Nope. DONE.

    I dropped all my armor, screamed and let loose an obscenity or four, and ran out, slamming the door behind me (because as you know, spiders can’t crawl underneath doors). After a brief discussion, we decided to call in reinforcement. Mandi sent Rushy a text. “Emergency 911. Get home ASAP.” Less than 10 minutes later, Rushy burst through the door, wild-eyed and ready to eff something or someone up. “What’s wrong? What is it?” He asked. Mandi very calmly explained. “There’s a big-ass spider in our bedroom, your son is sick, and we’re not sleeping in there until the spider is dead and gone.” Rushy disappeared into the bedroom. We found ourselves pretty amused at the grunts, bangs, crashes, and shuffles coming from in there. He finally emerged, and announced that the spider was no more!
When he complained that Mandi shouldn't have sent him the emergency text, she smiled.
“Kind of silly to get everybody all riled up over something that really isn't that big of a deal, now isn't it?”

…..We still call Rushy to fight our spider battles. 

No comments:

Post a Comment