I failed to make sure my daughter was ready for adulting. Or at least the zombie apocalypse. Or this week: tiny spiders…
Spider intervention was not on the curriculum for my girl, obviously until … My daughter had a major problem in her first apartment today. She thinks she is going to be okay with being an an adult – she took care of a spider in her bathtub and didn’t die. I just listen and plan on telling my horror story… It’s more impressive than hers. Read them both and you decide, dear reader.
I present to you Exhibit A ,aka my spidey story: I was probably around 22 years old when I faced a similar problem. Here’s how that transpired: It was 4:30 in the morning and I had to shower for work. I stumbled into my bathroom and before turning on the water, stopped dead in my tracks. There was a spider in my bathtub and it was the biggest spider in the world. Seriously. I didn’t have a clue what I was going to do, except the obvious: Wake my grandfather up and have him take care of it. He wasn’t too happy with me but he was a real trooper, with plenty of experience in this department. I was sorry for having to wake him up but … Before the de-spider-ing task, he asked me why I didn’t just flush it down the shower drain. I pointed at spider– him. My grandfather was impressed by the size. I felt better knowing that Papaw understood that the size of the eight-legged monstrosity prohibited that from happening.
And my daughter’s one :
She sees a spider in her tub- a black spider with a red spot and thinks it’s a black widow. Omg, the horror. She runs. Out the front door with her MacBook and Googles the information. She soon knew that the spider was an adorable little shy jumper. Nothing like black widows who are scary. Then, I have to listen to more than a few minutes on this spider and a half hour on bug bombs. My husband and agree she could not have one or three, as she says. Bug bombs that are. After careful deliberation on going to ask the office if she could kill all the spiders in Lubbock, Texas… I tell her that they will probably exterminate for her. Spiders, people. Bless her heart- she is a little bit of a princess but still amazes me how appreciative she is. She bragged on the office and how maintenance already has taken care of the dishwasher and she is speechless with joy when I tell her that they can take care of spiders, too. Topped off with a friend ’s mom that makes homemade bug spray completes her excitement. Running from the bathroom and out her front door, frantic because she had no idea what to do.
In summary, she has no idea where the itsy bitsy spider is now – she assumed it ran down the drain on its own – I don’t tell her it’s probably hiding from her in the bathroom.
She somberly says that she probably scared him to death. And laughs. So the dramatics and squeaking and operatic wailing were not in vain, and the spider wasn’t either.
I tell her my story. She shudders and says “East Texas must suck .”
*editors note: Rowen is also 22 and not as tough as her badass mom.
And like a celebrity, I'm just like everyone else...
I hope my readers will find my blog relatable to the idiosyncrasies , craziness and flaws that we all have. If you are perfect, I'm sorry and congratulations .This might not be the feeble attempt at a blog for you .PLEASE email me and give me your secret. It will save me a lot writing .
I just read a piece about how my authors “ about me “page is probably boring everyone to death. I apologize but my first claim to fame was in Eighth grade when one of my teachers read a story I had written to the class. I don’t remember what exactly it was about but the first sentence was “Coma. Unconscious. “.
You see where I am going with this. I was an instant star and most likely to write a book .