Eight-Legged Freakout

What is it about spiders that absolutely terrify me? I know, they are smaller than me, they are probably more scared of me than I am of them. I don’t see how that is possible!

Apparently I wasn’t always like this. Growing up in a house just me and my mum, I used to get the spiders out! Me!? Really!? She must be telling porkies.

I’m not too bothered by bugs. I used to catch and collect grasshoppers! I will catch any bug I see without complaint but put a spider in front of me, my heart races; i feel sick; I physically start to cry! It’s silly, but I can’t help it.

Of course, I try to be brave for my children. I used to walk them up to bushes when they were young and point out the “pretty” spiders, trying to avoid the fear passing through to them.

It hasn’t worked.

Their dad isn’t a spider fan. I always believed that one of the bonuses of living with a man would be a built in spider catcher. Well, he didn’t catch them, but a few of my books were used as successful spider squashers.

I know, I wasn’t happy having my precious babies flung at poor innocent spiders (yes I hate them, but don’t want them killed!) but if it meant I could walk to the toilet in the middle of the night I was grateful.

Since I have been living alone with the kids, I have had to get brave. I have caught, yes actually caught, more than a handful of spiders in the almost five years we have been in this house,

The ones that are too big to let walk on by. The big, meaty looking ones that wouldn’t go unnoticed if you did happen to try and squish them. Just typing the description of them has given me the creeps!!

So I can act brave, and I get a huge sense of achievement when I fling them out the front door and slam it behind me, but that doesn’t change the fact I’m terrified of them.

I live near the woods. A lot of spiders use my house as a stomping ground. I’m very glad I miss most of them. The cats give them away sometimes, their beady eyes following them then pouncing last minute.

Tonight though, however, one of the worst things that could possibly happen to a human scared of a spider, actually happened to me!

I was sitting in the living room minding my own business, and decided to take some stuff through to the kitchen. As I did my hair tickled my ear. I went to brush it away.

To my utter horror I felt a hard lump behind my earlobe. It was about the size of a pea.

Without a second thought I flicked the pea sized mass forward and saw a dark mass fall onto the black floor.

It was only a f@#%ing spider!!!!

How long had it been there? Had it been sitting in my hair? Why me? Why me? Whhhhhhhhhhy me????

It took me a long time to get over that, in fact I’m still a little shaken now, but what was I meant to do. My first reaction is burn down my house, but I have neighbours and children to think about.

Anyway, you would think that was the end of it. An hour after the disaster, my son came downstairs, unable to sleep. I told him to go back up, but then decided to tell him what had happened.

He’s in the middle. He doesn’t like spiders because, lets face it they are creepy (who needs eight legs?!??) He also has two big sisters, the eldest of which is suddenly a spider fan so they are becoming more ‘cool.’

Thinking he could take what had happened to me, and probably find it funny, I told him, including tickling behind his ear saying ‘it was there’

Well, that was the worst timed joke I had ever done!! He started screaming, not a girly jokey scream he does when he’s pretending to be scared, a deep terrified scream that would fit well in a horror movie as the bad guy heads towards them with an axe.

I try asking what’s wrong. He is looking down and starts hitting his leg. Aaaaargh, he’s still screaming.
He then jumps onto the stairs and runs up to his room when I noticed a very small spider scurrying across the carpet.

Well, yes I’m a bad mum, I started laughing. Not at him, but my nervous laugh I get; the same one I get when people tell me that someone close to them has died and my brain tells my face to act like an idiot.

I followed him upstairs, calmed him and myself down and told him his cat had eaten the spider. That made him happy.

I had planned to fill this post with pictures of the spiders I’d caught, but I couldn’t face it.

Really though, what is it that makes so many of us freak out when we think of these eight-legged monsters?

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