If you’re a mouse or a rat, I’m not scared of you. In fact, you may at one time have been one of our ratty roommates living under our kitchen cabinets in Wrigleyville. Well, that is until you started eating my chex mix and I had you evicted. Hey, if I don’t get to eat for free, neither do you.
If you’re a snake, you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone and we can both live happily together. Not together together, but you know what I mean. Alone, capiche?
If you’re a bird, I have a friend who is absolutely terrified of you because you circled around her head and then stole an entire sandwich right out of her hands with your 5 foot long razor-sharp beak and dagger-like talons as she remembers from when she was little. I, however, don’t mind you, I grew up with one of you in my family room and I still consider you ok in my book, even after I watched you bite a chunk out of my sister’s face.
Spider? Pshaw, as long as I have a nice big wad of tp between the 2 of us so I don’t feel you between my fingers when I dispose of you properly, we’re all good. Oh, and if you’re a big fatty hanging out in the corner, I may just leave you be if you keep eating the rest of your little buddies. 1 spider, fine. 10 spiders? EFF. THAT. For the record, I’ve seen the movie Kingdom of the Spiders where the whole town is covered in spider webs at the end. That’s what I’m trying to avoid here. Scott may beg to differ and say that I actually am scared of spiders but come on, when he’s home, I’m making him do it. That doesn’t make me scared, that makes me resourceful.
So little things, creepy crawlies, I can handle them for the most part. I think I’m more afraid of g-g-g-ghosts and I’m totally not kidding. But 2 nights ago, I lost it. I even did the dance. You know, the dance….
- start running in place
- kick your own buttcheeks really quickly over and over
- shake your limp hands up and down
- make crazy eyes like you’re about to cry
- do the Chandler smile…
or maybe this…
yeah, yeah, just like this…
My family – we’re big fans of the Chandler face. Anywho, so ya, you know the dance I’m talkin bout. And what would cause me, someone who is pretty unphased by rats, blah about snakes, friends with birds and whatevs about spiders, freak out like a psycho?
There I was Wednesday night minding my own business.
I took a shower.
I got out of the shower.
I grabbed my towel off the rack on the wall.
I dried myself off.
I wrapped my towel around me and folded it over at my chest.
And all of a sudden, I feel something.
On my leg.
It felt big.
It came out of my towel.
I look down and what do I see?
And you are totally making the Chandler face now, too. And I haven’t taken a shower since.