Okay. I don't mind spiders from afar. I can watch them on TV. I liked reading Charlotte's Web as a child.
There was a spider on my kitchen ceiling yesterday. Only the children and I were home. I have vaulted ceilings. I figured if it stayed high, I wouldn't bother it, it wouldn't bother me. Then I made the mistake of saying something flippant like "Hey, Wylde, I wonder if this spider will crawl into your room tonight while you are sleeping." He starts crying. What the fuck was I thinking? Seriously. Now not even I will be able to sleep knowing that spider is wandering around the house. Oh wait. Here it comes. I can reach it with a broom. I stick a paper towel to the end of the broom and went to stab it. I missed. I stab it again. I missed. I scream. It falls to the top of the cabinets. I get a chair. I go to crush it with a paper towel. I miss and crush it with my finger! I immediately jump from the chair and do the "Yay, Dayne went potty in the potty!" dance except this is the "OMG I just touched a hairy spider with my finger!" dance - they are essentially the same but the facial expressions are WAY different! I finally get it!!!!!! and go to crush it inside the paper towel but can feel it crushing. I scream - again - and drop the paper towel. It is so dead. Thank the chocolate and peanut butter combination makers.
If that hadn't of been so excrutiating, it would have been funny.
Stay Funny San Diego, Daya
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