Close Encounters
With the weekend comes my opportunity to get the laundry done. Why the weekend? Well, because we have ants in our backyard. Despite my less-than-impressed reaction to Ants on a Plane! I am not fond of ants. I don’t know many people who are, I’ll admit, but I especially dislike them. They come in vast numbers. And when I kill them with fly spray they die in vast numbers leaving me to clean up their corpses. It makes my skin crawl.
And that’s just New Zealand ants. Australian ants are worse because they’ll bite you. Even just the normal ones. This country is ridiculous. Everything bites. If I went out tomorrow and got bitten by a plant I wouldn’t be surprised. Well, beyond the fact that I was actually out. In an effort to avoid having ants crawling up my pants and biting my ankles (it hurts!) I get Brendan to hang the washing out.
So this morning I gathered up the first armful of clothing (mine) and took it to the laundry. I’d just added the laundry powder when I noticed a strange tickling on my left shoulder. Thinking it was probably Brendan I pulled the shoulder forward as I turned my head to look. Staring back at me with malice in its many eyes was a massive spider.
This thing was so big it looked set to take a chunk out of my head. I screamed in a way I thought women only screamed in movies. I have a fairly quiet voice and I honestly didn’t think I was capable of making a noise that loud. With my right hand I managed to sweep the monstrosity from my shoulder before I could collapse under the weight of it.
Only after I had disposed of the creature did I hear a wary “Are you okay?” No I was not okay. I had come face-to-face with a beast that belonged in the depths of the darkest of Greek mythology. Or Stephen King mythology. Whatever. I’d come face-to-face with something I didn’t want to be face-to-face with in any case and the Man of the House had leapt to his feet (he claims) before realising that if I was screaming that loudly whatever was in the laundry with me might be dangerous and thought better of coming to my aid.
After establishing that he was in no immediate danger the Man of the House fetched the fly spray and disposed of the spider for me. It had, and this is where the Greek mythology connection comes in, had somehow magically transformed itself back into a normal spider upon hitting the floor leading the Man of the House to ridicule me for what he deemed an overreaction. Eventually I managed to get a hold of myself and returned to finish putting the washing on.
Much to my surprise I found the box of washing powder sitting safely upon the side of the washing machine. Somehow I’d had the presence of mind to set it down rather than dropping it. My courage shocked me.
It nearly made up for the shrieking.
Tagged: domestic inconveniences, Fears & Neuroses.