Monday, September 29, 2008

Those Amazing Arachnids

Dear Jason,

I am writing to you to inform you that laundry operations in our home have ceased until further notice.

Should you wish for me, your loving wife, to resume washing our unmentionables, you need to don your Spider Killer weapons and search and destroy the ginormous creature (bordering on carcass!) that was stalking me this morning in the laundry room.

This thing, kid you not, far surpasses in size any of the individual specimens in the herd of spiders I rustled up in mom's yard that one day, and even dwarfs the infamous bathtub spider of 2007 which completely gave us the shivers some months ago. If the bathtub spider was, say, comparable to a Buick LeSabre, which is to say, large enough for all practical purposes, than the one in the laundry room is a Hummer. And not one of those wimpy H3s; this sucker is the real deal.

After you left to go work out this morning, I went to the laundry room to put a load in. I had this weird feeling while I was down there; I felt like I was being watched. I turned at one point, thinking maybe I would see Michael Meyers, but instead saw something even more horrifying: the largest spider I've ever seen inside but not in zoo just hanging out on a beam above my head.

It being a wolf spider, a ground dweller based on the research I have done (know thy enemies!), I have a feeling it is not long for its lofty perch and will venture downward where it will lurk behind or in a clothes basket and scurry across my foot the next time I do down there, which will surely cause my heart to stop.

So, if you love me, if those vows you took 11 years ago to honor and obey mean anything to you, you will smoke this spider out of its hole and kill it for me. It was out of reach of any weapon this morning, plus you and I both know I cannot kill a spider that big; the best I can do is scream like a little girl and curl up in a fetal position a safe distance away. If you can't find it when you come home today...make some calls. Call Orkin, call Terminex, call Colin Powell if you have to. But I am not going in that room until you have found this thing dead or alive. Preferably very, very dead.

And don't just think of me...think of the horrifying fact that we have clothes down there, clothes which a spider might find cozy.

And finally, think of containment. Do you really want to leave this thing down there where it could eventually wander out into the habitable areas of our home?

So, Jason, please be my Marlboro Man, my Bubba, my knight in shining armor, and slay this beast, or at the very least lasso it up and ride it off into the sunset.

In the meantime, I will be sleeping with a can of Raid.



Like cryptonite to Superman, like Newman to Jerry...this is what spiders are to me.


Mrs. Rob K said...

OMG I so feel your fear, pain, freak-out factor!!! I am a scream and call Rob kind of arachno-phobe. I do, however, have two shining moments of empowerment!
1) I was sitting at my computer in one of college apartments, typing away on a paper in relative dim-ness. Felt like I needed to turn my head to the left for some reason.... and there was a spider on my shoulder!!! I, out of sheer adrenaline rush, smacked the damn thing off my shoulder and into the wall... then ran like a little girl to turn on every light in the apartment. I waited for my boyfriend at the time to come home and clean up the remains.
2) My wolf-spider encounter is my shining moment of my 34 years! I was at a church camp in Texas out in the woods... I should have known better!! I was in the common showers of my cabin... alone. I was showering away and felt a tickle on my foot (bear in mind I'm literally itching head to toe and randomly shaking as I type this!). I look down and saw this freaking behemoth of a spider in the corner of the shower. I screamed for help but I was literally alone, for about a 1/4 of a mile or more as everyone else was down at the lake. I looked around the bathroom for anything I could use offensively... and lo and behold, there was a softsoap bottle... and I was in my prime as a varsity softball player. So... I used the softsoap bottle to beat the living hell out of the spider... took 4 hits but it never stood a chance! I did spend the rest of the day in a near stupor and I still to this day (nearly 20-years later) with tremors when I remember that day.

So in short, I completely feel your pain, your fear, your refusal to enter the room :)

Library Lady said...

Oh, dear Lord. I would respond to your story but it kinda makes me want to crawl under my desk and cry!

But if I crawled under my desk, I would probably find a spider under there.

Skin crawling now....

Karen said...

You are so brave. I would have run screaming out of the laundry room and out of the house. And I would have refused to come back in until that thing was smashed into a zillion pieces. God knows where it could have gone after you saw it. Great, now I'm going to dream about huge spiders tonight!