Spider Fear Factor.

Erika, thank you for subtly bringing it to my attention that I need to chill the hell out.

I took your advice, scarfed down 6 Lindor Truffles, and am feeling much better now.

Lily, my putty-tat has come to seek forgiveness for her attrocious behavior this morning. (In the last post, you'll see she hawked up a hairball in the doorway to the bathroom for Mommy to step in before she even got a cup of coffee...). She's currently draped over my shoulders doing that little paw stretch thingy with her paws, taking intermittent intervals to bathe herself on me. She's sorry. She said so.

So, when I took a shower tonight (I take them at night so as to not bring sweat and environmental yuckies into my egyptian cotton sheets...) I met a roommate. It's an itsy-bitsy spider, which to me looks like your average garden variety. Can't be any bigger than the ball part of a ball point pen. He looked like a "Jeff" to me. So, that's what we'll be calling him.

Anyways, I'm in there doing the whole Neutrogena facial wash deal (before I wash my hair...can't be getting that crap in clean hair) and I rinse my face off and movement happens to catch my eye. So, I glance up and there's Jeff building himself a web. (Yeah, yeah. I know that it's usually GIRL spiders that do the web weaving, it's my blog...work with me here. There's a reason I do search and rescue and am not an insectologist or whatever the hell they're called.)

So, like the total moron that I am, I start talking to him. "Hey buddy. As long as you stay up there, you and I will get along fine and you get to live. Come down past the top of the shower curtain, and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

Jeff replies "I'M A SPIDER, YOU MORON, I CAN'T TALK!". Point taken.

So, he busies himself going back and forth between the light fixture and the shower curtain. At this point, I'm feeling a little bad for him because after I wash my hair, shave my legs etc, I'm outta there, and will need to push the curtain aside to exit. This of course will destroy that 15 minutes of his hard work.

Jeff squashes my regrets about wrecking his art when he shoots a spiderweb out of his butt and drops down for a better look. He is level with my eyes at this point. I say "Jeff, honey...you're going to need to get your 8 legged little ass back up where you belong, or your going for a ride down the water slide."

And like he completely understands, up he goes.

This goes on for a good 10 minutes. Of which, I am accomplishing absolutely nothing in the shower. Finally, I wash my hair so that I don't run out of hot water, and because I need to keep an eye on Jeff (in the every day world, Jeff would have been paste on the bottom of my shoe), I don't want to close my eyes to wash them.

Now, I have Aveda stinging my eyes. I call Jeff a few names that my children aren't allowed to say, warn him to stay where he belongs, and I then rinse my eyes out. Conditioner: Apply, Bitch at Jeff to stay put, still keep my eyes open anyway, rinse, rinse out eyes.

Evidently, if this were Fear Factor, Jeff and I would have tied. I didn't want to eat him or anything...(you name it, you better not eat it. That's just mean.) but normally, those little suckers freak me out. From his perspective, I'm gigantasaur. Fear was not a factor for either of us!

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PS. Well shit. After looking for a picture of him to share with you, I'm going to have to go find his little ass and kill him. He's a brown recluse. I hadn't seen one before, but I'd heard the stories. He's just a baby. If I don't, my luck would be that he'd return the favor by being fruitful and reproducing a thousand more and then one of his little bastard children would bite one of my boys. Then, I'd have to launch a massive war and bomb the entire house. That'd be a pain in the arse.