I woke this morning at the God awful hour of FIVE AM to get one of the Damn Emo friends, N* ready to be picked up. After another loooooong sleepless night with Boo.
This would be like day 3, or 5, or four hundred thousand, I don’t freaking know, I am not even sure my clothes are on the right way out. (I totally wrote wrong way out and then contemplated for a full minute before realising what I actually meant) So I am a little teeny weeny bit delirious.
The first thing to greet me when I got up at the God awful hour of FIVE AM was a massive mutant spider in the dining room. I hightailed it to MPS, blissfully sleeping in Boo’s room (Boo was in our bed. With the DVD going all night AND all the lights on) and
punched him in the balls gently woke him to demand request that he murder the infidel get rid of the spider while 6ft N and I cowered in the loungeroom.
Unfortunately there was a slight hiccup. MPS in his well rested wisdom decided to use my bath scrubber on a stick thingy to
annihilate get rid of said intruder. My bath scrubber on a stick thingy is curved on the inside. Not conducive to squishing to a pulp spider removal.
I poked my head around the corner to find MPS wandering around the kitchen, dining AND family room looking under things. I was all ‘what are you doing?’ and he was all ‘nothing’ and that is when it dawned on me that the fucker had LOST the spider.
Apparently he got it. Apparently he was carrying it outside. Apparently when he got to the door the spider was MISSING. I freaked the fuck out and he went Back. To. Bed.
Oh. Yes. He. Did.
So needless to say I have spent the whole day in terror. Jumping when I see light move across the floor. Avoiding the family room where the spider mysteriously disappeared. Imagining it hiding and plotting and Oh My Fucking God laying eggs. Millions of eggs to hatch and over throw the house and spin me into a huge web while I sleep and it laughs manically at me.
My terror of this particular species of spider stems back from my childhood. I have killed red back spiders (poisonous) and white tails (flesh eating bites that do not heal) with my bare hands. Once killing a redback that was in Moo’s bassinet. But this spider the, huntsman spider, scares the living shit out of me.
Pass the Depends.
And a mop.
And the air freshener. Better still, perhaps you should leave for a while. Take that fucking spider with you…
Anyway. My childhood. Trauma. Trauma by spider with a vendetta.
We were on holidays. I was six or seven. We rented out a beach house in Rye, Victoria with my Auntie and cousin. The oldies wanted us to go to bed early because we were going to the Rosebud Carnival the next day. NOW I know it was just cause they wanted to drink and dance to ABBA and the Bee Gees and shit.
I felt a ‘presence’ in the room. There was something watching me. I called my mother. She told me to go back to sleep.
I called my mother. She came in, rather freaking annoyed and told me to go to sleep.
By now I was rather hysterical, so she came in
to shut me up so I wouldn’t wake the Golden Child to see what was wrong and she turned on the light.
Above my bed, inches from my head was a huge spider. Like in that movie. But this was HUGE and BLACK and ALL EYES and LEGS and OMG does anyone have a paper bag?
She sent me out of the room and when I came in she assured me she killed it, so I went back to bed and slept fitfully. Only to wake in the morning to see two spider legs on the floor near the door.
‘Don’t worry Kel’ my Daddy soothed ‘He will be halfway to Sydney by now!’
We went to the Carnival. It was awesome. I went on the Pirate Ship for the first time and loved every second while my Auntie vomited over the side. We ate carnival food and scored a shit load of showbags. Back when showbags were NOT like a down payment for a house in price.
Back at the beach house I was sitting with my back to the door, playing with my loot, thinking I was the luckiest girl on earth. Until I looked up and saw the look of utter horror on the faces of my parents and Auntie…
I turned to see a spider behind me, reared up to strike.
It only had six legs.
Now excuse me while I go and vomit after re-telling that tale.
While I am heaving up my lovely dinner of Tikka Marsala, Basmati Rice and Naan (no broccoli this time Mr Lady, just for you) tell me your story.
What scared the living shit out of you
and scarred you for life cause your mother is freaking LIAR as a child that still scares the bejebus out of you today? I could do a who series on mine…
*N’s father is my Coffee Bitch. The same Coffee Bitch who holds my future at work in his girly man hands. Through my sleep deprived eyes I spied a smirk on his face. All day I have been
obsessing wondering what that meant.