Friday, 28 October 2011

Incy Wincy Spider

Many years ago I had the misfortune to encounter, in the flat where I lived alone, a spider that was virtually the size of a small boy.  It’s ‘feet’ were so well defined that it looked as if it was wearing clogs.  It almost landed on my head, trapping me for a considerable amount of time in the very small bathroom.  When I eventually escaped the confines of the bathroom, the only way I could continue living in the flat was to rid it of the spider.  I swiftly put together a spider killing outfit - a polo neck jumper tucked into pyjama bottoms which in turn were tucked into long socks inside wellington boots.  The sleeves of the jumper were secured inside a pair of acid-yellow marigold gloves and the look was complete.  I attacked the beast with a whole can of fly spray and a bread knife.  Sounds over dramatic?  Perhaps.  But you weren’t there and quite frankly one of us had to go.

During the past couple of weeks of autumn, the house I share with The Husband, The Seven Year Old and The Baby, has also been under serious attack from exceptionally large arachnids of the spider variety.  Only days ago, I inadvertently created panic within The Husband when my screeches to come upstairs were misinterpreted as an indication that something was seriously wrong with The Baby.  In reality of course, it was to rescue me and The Baby from the eight legged monster that had parked itself on the landing light switch,  I had spotted it only a second before my fingers would have been caressing its hairy back!!  The Husband was understandably less than impressed.    

Since then, I’ve tried to contain the hysteria with limited success.  And so, in future when my shrieking attracts raised eyebrows from The Husband, I shall consider reminding him of his own rather dramatic reaction when faced with a big fat pigeon one evening on entering the bedroom.  But that’s another story for another day.

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