My husband glowers at me for waking him by screaming at the top of my lungs at such an ungodly hour. But I couldn’t help it. It was touching me! All those hairy legs crawling across my skin were just begging me to scream.
So as I lay, cowering, after my most recent “spider invasion”…I have to wonder what’s worse, boys or bugs?
After all, I spent the entire evening alone in my bed, listening to disco music on satelight radio (again) while my husband sat on the back porch with the boys (our daughters’ boyfriends) discussing sports, politics, and chickens. The girls were equally annoyed, as we all felt somewhat abandoned by the men in our lives. How could a basketball game be more exciting than a girl? And since when do guys back down from killing a spider?
I mean, really?
Times have changed. And it’s definitely time to call the exterminator. I can’t go on much longer like this. I haven’t slept a single night in the past month. I fall asleep as daylight breaks and sleep until lunch, somehow convinced that spiders only come out at night. Every loose hair, speck of dust, or bit of fluff coming in contact with my skin is suddenly a bug, in the dark of night. This is bordering on a major phobia. Bugaphobia (or whatever it’s called.) And having bugaphobia when your husband won’t bother to slay the dragons is even worse! He chased off a grasshopper, trapped in the kitchen, when the one of the boys was freaked out by the giant bug, but he won’t stay awake on spider patrol for me. What gives?
Like I said…what’s worse? Boys or bugs?
I might have to get back to you on that. Right after I pull out my platform shoes and dance to a little Bee Gees in the bedroom.
Until the next time…I’ll be looking up the bug-busters!