Last night right before bed I stepped into the hallway to turn off the light and something caught my eye. It was a GIGANTIC spider crawling on the bed in the spare room. I probably could have killed it myself, but I wanted Bryan to see it, to raise his awareness of the spider situation in our home. Now, I am not a squealy girl who screams every time a tiny spider walks by. But 1.) we have been having a little bit of a problem with poisonous spiders called Fiddlebacks in our house lately and 2.) this was no tiny spider - its legs were quite possibly longer than mine.
So I called for Bryan to come in and make sure it wasn't the poisonous kind and to kill it. Bryan was less than thrilled about being called out of bed to smash a spider. He looked at it and made a half-hearted attempt to grab it with a kleenex. But the spider was apparently a seasoned criminal and disappeared under the bed in a flash.
Bryan said, "Well, it's just a harmless wolf spider. Let's go to bed."
Um, was he kidding? I wanted to see some spider carnage before I went back to bed. I mean, this thing was so big we could have strapped a saddle on its hairy back and ridden it into the Grand Canyon. And as Bryan suggested that we just go to bed, a vision flashed through my mind of that big hairy thing crawling over my infant son's head...or my toothbrush.
"Uh, I would rather try to find it and kill it first," I told Bryan.
Bryan's response was that he didn't even know where the flashlight was. At that point, I would have driven to Arkansas to get a flashlight if I had to. But, alas, I knew exactly where the flashlight was. So there we were, after 11 at night, laying on the floor with our butts in the air, looking under the bed for Spiderzilla.
In the end, I had to go to bed defeated. All night long, whenever the sheets touched me, I imagined it was my arachnid friend from the other room, coming to poop on me or lay eggs in my ear or just lick the chapstick off my lips.
It is such a curse to have an over-active imagination sometimes.