Every man's got his one thing that will get to him and, if not make him scream like a woman, at least make him run, convulsing, in the opposite direction. For Jay, that thing is a spider. So when I spotted one in the corner of the dining room this morning, I knew I shouldn't leave it for him to deal with when he got home this afternoon. I just couldn't do that to the man I love. So I took matters, or rather the vacuum, into my own hands. Only the damned thing skittered out of reach before I could suck him up. I wasn't about to spend my precious online time before work hunting down a stupid spider, so I put the vacuum away and went about my business getting my breakfast together, cautiously glancing around the corner every few seconds to see if the little guy had come back out where I could reach him. At first, I thought my final glance, the one when I had my plated cinna-oat muffin & fork in hand, would prove fruitless again. I stared down in the corner behind the wine rack looking for any sign of movement, but saw nothing. Then there was movement...on the wall in front of me at eye level! That little fucker was staring me right in the face!
Every woman's got her one thing that will get to her...
I dropped my muffin (on the table, thank God...I'd hate to lose my muffin in this whole ordeal) screamed like a banshee and ran down the hallway, flailing my arms like a frightened little schoolgirl. Eventually I mustered up the courage to go back there and smack the damned thing with a Birkenstock, but not before dancing around, shaking my hands chanting "OhMyGodOhMyGodOhMyGod!" for a solid minute and 30 seconds.
I swear, If we had a nanny-cam, I'd be the next YouTube celebrity.
But, alas, all I have to show for the experience is the dirty outline of a murderous sandal on my white wall.
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