Knight in Shining Armor

Hello. My Name is Diana and I am an arachnophob. I have been for as long as I can remember but when I was in middle school at a sleep over we watched Arachnophobia and that just exacerbated the fear. Have you seen that commercial where the guy is on the phone and totally oblivious to the tarantula his co-workers put on his shirt? If you ever try that on me, I will sever our friendship! I promise I am that scared.

Yesterday, as I played with my new haircut, I spotted a big black spider crawling across my bathroom ceiling. Anderson was fascinated--he kept pointing and oohing in his high pitched, excited voice. (He does this for every animal which made our zoo trip very fun yesterday.) I was terrified, so when I saw it disappear into my closet (there's a part of my closet ceiling that is not closed in and runs into my bathroom ceiling) I closed the closet door and refused to go back in there last night. I made Marc pull out the laundry so I could sort it. Yes, I'm that scared.

This morning, as I was blow drying my hair, (irony anyone?) the spider reappeared--on my bathroom mirror. I watched it and I watched it and I watched it. This time I was close enough to see that it was black and white and when it stuck his front legs out further than the rest he strangely resembled Stitch. (from Lilo and Stitch) It stayed on the mirror which meant that my weapon of choice, a shoe, could not be used. I refuse to use tissue because I can't let myself touch a spider with only a thin sheet of nothingness between my fingers and the crunch of the creatures death. I called Marc at work freaking out but I knew he couldn't rescue me. I called Carter upstairs. He wasn't about to do my dirty work either. I got desperate as I watched him climb up my mirror, around my light fixture and back down onto my mirror. I did what any little girl does--I called my dad who lives 5 minutes up the road and asked him the ridiculous. "Stop eating your breakfast, be late to work, and come kill a gargantuan spider for me." He was willing but before we got off the phone, the spider had crawled down my mirror, onto Marc's bottle of cologne, and then down the counter top to my tub. I dropped the phone, screeched a little bit and pounded Marc's volleyball shoe until the spider was dead. So much for knights in shining armor this morning.