Fear, Courage, Murder.

The story I am about to tell you deals with fear, courage, and murder.  For those of you with heart conditions or are in your third trimester of pregnancy, this would be your cue to leave the theater. Please be courteous of others and do so quietly.

Our story took place yesterday afternoon. My aunt had made a roast dinner and invited everyone over for a nice meal together.  Sis and I had made plans to go shopping together after Monkey woke up from his nap but side stepped a bit in our shopping plans in order to go eat with everyone.  No big deal.  Monkey woke up a couple hours later, was changed, dressed and made really to leave.  I grabbed the keys and the diaper bag and we were walking out the door. Heck. Yeah.

I drive a Nissan Xterra. The handles on that thing are the type that you put your fingers through and pull out.

It looks exactly like this one here.

I have the diaper bag slung over my left shoulder and have Monkey sitting on my left hip while I'm unlocking the X using a keyless remote fob. I get to the driver's door, so I can lean in and start the car to get the A/C going (because it is hotter than two squirrels getting it on in a wool sock right now in Texas), and put my hand in the handle to open the door.  Then it happens.  My pinky finger touches something that is not ever there.  I have opened this door using this handle HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS of times and NEVER has this thing been there.  FEAR. I was looking at and talking to Monkey when it happened but as soon as I felt it, (at break neck speed) my head whipped around to investigate what I feared it to be just to have my suspicions confirmed.

A spider.

An m-effin SPIDER decided to spin a freaking web on the backside of my door handle!!!!  And not just any spider of a small sort. This damn thing was a medium sized, ugly-ass, nasty looking thing with bright ORANGE legs!!!!  Remembering that I am holding my 1.3 year old son and that I can't do the Barney Rubble foot shuffle into a ninja back flip to get away from the SOB, I allow myself a mental "SQUUUEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!" and a few choice words mumbled under my breath cause I seriously felt like throwing up all over the place. It was hot outside but the sweat on my brow had nothing to do with the heat. I mean, it's bad enough to see them, but to touch one?! Oh no.  "I'll fix your ass in a minute...effer." 

So I walked around to the passenger side, spot check the handle there (never know, they could be plotting on me and planning an invasion big enough to stop my heart and kill me so that they could eat me... *looking around suspiciously from side to side*) and proceed to lean in to get the A/C going.  After getting Monkey buckled in and set in the now cooling car, I set my mind on this nasty little problem I had on the other side. It's hot out so I'm already good and mad that I'm not sitting in my car in the A/C too and on my way to fill my tummy.  "Oh yeah, you're gonna get it now, sucker."

Courage. I spy the water hose neatly wound up on the porch and decide that I'm gonna blast it's ass off my car.  After doing so, I see the vile nastiness scampering across the driveway through the lake of water I just shot at it. Oh. Hell. No.  You are NOT getting away with scaring the hell fire out of me and living to tell the tale to all your other friends about the chick who's heart you almost stopped. F that. Murder. I dropped the hose, walked around the car and planted a size 9 Reef flip flop right on top of him.  Squished his ass right IN to the the concrete. How's THAT for hell fire, bitch? 

As a result of this trauma, I now check the back side of my handle for the disgusting creeps prior to entering my vehicle.  I can't help it.  My fear of spiders stems from when I was a child and running around outside.  I face planted a web that happened to be the home of one of those wicked looking spiders that's black and yellow and leaves zig-zag's in their webs.  Yeah. Right on the side of my face.  I was doing the nails down your face, get-it-out-of-my-hair dance.  I squirm when I think about them. *gag* Even the little ones.  I can't handle it. 

LOL  I know y'all are thinking, "And this chick was a Marine?!"  I know, I know.  Look, I just don't like spiders.  We all have our kryptonite. Spiders are mine. 

Ciao.