Saturday, July 08, 2006

"Itsy Bitsy Spider....

Crawled up and created a 'Hostage Situation.'

On Wednesday, July 5th, an incident occured involving my Wife, my Daughter, and a Spider at approximately 5pm.

Wife, age 30, was with our Daughter, age 8 months, at a Walgreens to pick up some various items and a prescription. After parking the car at the destination, Wife discovered a Spider after lifting up the Daughter in her carseat. Wife, after detailing some various prophanities, removed our Daughter from the car and proceeded to panic.

She then proceeded to call me on my cell phone to explain the situation. I, just finishing a days work, was on my way to Her Brothers house, who live aproximately 10 miles from the incident.

Like a suicide or crisis call center employee, I attempted to get the caller to 'calm down', speak clearly and slowly so as to provide our emergency crews as much information as possible.

Wife, who clearly is afraid of Spiders, is unable to control her current fear of the insect now residing 'somewhere' in the back seat of our car. I explained to her "You're gonna have to find it, and if possible, kill it with your shoe, okay?"

Wife replied with obcsenities and more profanity without remorse, then added "No way, No *censored* way can I do this. I can't do this. You're gonna have to get over here."
I implored to the Wife that such an idea was neither benificial, nor time efficient for the current 'hostage situiation'.

Again, Wife replied with more profanities. After careful deliberation, I found that the only choice was to handle this 'situation' myself. I drove to the location, (approximately 45 minutes away with rush hour traffic) and assessed the facts:

Wife, with Daughter outside of the car in the parking lot, looking very helpless, was extremely happy and very apologetic to see me. Store purchases and various items that were in the car, now occupy space around the vehicle.

The Wife, per my instructions, did purchase a large can of insectide for the sole purpose of killing this 8 legged 'monster'.

"Where is it?" I asked...
"I thought I saw it go under the driver's seat.." Said the Wife. "Ok, gimme the can of bug killer."

Like a Gestapo Officer, I relentlessly hosed the underside of the driver seat, hoping to 'gas' the bastard right then and there.

To no avail, I searched for a 'body'.

"Did you get him?" asked the Wife, tending to our Daughter, who was now getting slightly upset, due to the approaching 'bottle time'.

"No, don't see 'im means he ain't dead yet."
I proceeded with a more 'hands on approach' to my search by pulling the contents of the underside of the seat when my Wife exclaimed "Holy SH!T! There it is!!"

And there on the back rest of the passenger side back seat, was indeed a formidable 8 legged 'terrorist', awaiting my next move. Quickly, I repositioned myself for a better angle, flanking it from the other side of the car.

With my weapon in hand, (Raid brand bug killer) I fired at it like a neourotic hairstylist attacking a bad case of bed head with a can of AquaNet.

My aim was good, for the covered Spider now fell to the crease where the back of the seat meets the base of the seat.

And then, it crawled into the crack of the seat, disappearing entirely from my line of sight.


"Damnit." I exclaimed. "What now?" She asked. "The little SH!T bailed under the seat. I Don't know if I really got im." "Well, can you reach in there and check?" she squeaked.

Like a Drill Sergeant eyeing a recruit who just questioned my authority, I yelled "Are you out of your FUCKING MIND?!?! NO! I am NOT 'reaching in there' to check to see if it's alive or not, there or not, happy or not!!"

I was nearing the end of any strand of patience. I was angry. Not so much at the Wife for asking, but more for the lack of bravery on her part. I hastily found the latches which can release the seat to be easily removed.

There, I found the 'body' of the antagonist.

The Terror of the Day, The Beast that kills with extreme prejudice, The Tyrant, the Terrorist.....

Was Dead.

And with that, I requested a cloth or napkin in which I could lift the corpse out of the car and onto a better resting place.

The parkinglot asphalt, where I proceeded to release all my anger, hatred, frustration, and irritation, that this small, insignificant, puny life form has help create by just simply existing, by the power and passion of my big shoe, cremating it into oblivion, never to terrorize, haunt, or occupy any space near my Wife or My Daughter again.

I was partially frustrated with the Wife for, as mentioned before, her overwhelming fear of spiders. But, soon it subsided, allowing me to breathe, eat and eventually sleep the memory of this occurance away, as if it never happened.

But it did.

And, here on this website, will remain.

Only for those who choose to reach the end of this horrific story.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

LOL that would be and my sister if I could drive to her rescue :). good job drill sargent :D.