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Mom vs. the not so Itsy Bitsy Spider

SuperTeehdr "Moommmmmmy!"  I knew that plaintive call anywhere. A kid, one I gave birth to, was in trouble. I bounded out the door and into the front yard. There was my youngest daughter, white with fright, standing rigidly next to the garage, afraid to move. "Sp-Spider!" she said by way of explanation.

I am not Supermom. But sometimes this message doesn't get into my brain. It especially Does Not Compute if it involves protecting one of my offspring. I am the Motherboard, after all. I make it all run.exe. (or start, if you are Mac user, like me) "Spider" it turns out was a black widow hiding underneath a pipe by the corner of the house. In the face of the terror of my littlest one, I sprang into action. Instead of letting my husband, he of the Awesome Tech Support and Killer of Creepy Crawlies handle it, I grabbed a bottle of hair spray and went out the door to prove that I am more than just fantastically gorgeous, sexy and a bitchen writer. I am also: She Who Kills Spiders. I need a disclaimer here...I don't kill spiders. Call me a pacifist, or just too soft-hearted, either works. I catch spiders and put them outside, the poor things. But when it comes to venomous arachnids and children? All bets are off, and it WILL die.

The first thing I noticed was that the thing I was set to dispatch was frickin' HUGE. She was as big as my thumb. I'm also fairly certain she was glaring at me. I didn't take a picture, because, well, be honest, would you want to read this and see that monstrosity staring back at you? No, me either! She clearly was quite settled where she was, and wasn't intent on relocation, especially not to the Big Web in the Sky, because when I sprayed her with the hairspray, I think she grinned at me, and retreated deeper into the crevice from whence she came. Thinking hair spray was going to freeze her was clearly wrong, she was probably in front of her Spider Mirror doing her hair! Part of the problem is that in an attempt to be more environmentally-friendly, we don't have Aqua Net or any of those aerosol-type sprays in this house. The only spray available was my daughter's year-old cheap Suave pump spray, left over from her theatre production. Probably not the best weapon against a Widow from Hell.

This was war.

I tried to keep my knees from knocking. I willed myself to breathe, and fought off a wave of dizziness. I retreated to the garage to plan my next move and to grab a can of poison. We don't usually have spray, but I have a phobia of a certain large insect that rhymes with clock coach. Large black insects that scare me so badly I cannot even write the word. We keep the spray just in case an errant bug cannot read the signs posted all around my house and haplessly wanders into my driveway and certain death. I retrieved the can, and came once again to meet my enemy. I raised the can, poised to spray her into oblivion. She merely stared at me with all eight of her eyes, and tossed her now-gorgeous spider-hair in defiance. Toss, toss! I narrowed my eyes in answer, aimed the nozzle and let loose. I counted to ten, and still I sprayed.

I sprayed the snot out of that spider! And she wouldn't die! I didn't see a little tiny spider gas mask, but maybe she was just really good at holding her breath. She did do a lot of spider dancing, so clearly it was affecting her. I considered turning the hose on her, but remembered years ago when my children were babies and I was trying to exterminate a black widow in the back yard: those mothers can swim! I had tried to fill a bucket where one was hiding; instead of drowning, she showed me her backstroke. What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Back to the spider at hand, I continued to spray her and she was either going into neuro-toxic convulsions or she was break dancing. So You Think You Can Dance? She missed her calling. Before she became really mad, I decided to end it and show her once and for all who the true Survival of the Fittest would be. I pulled a sucker punch. I picked up a brick laying nearby and I smashed her flat. Dead. Not the most lovely ending, but effective, nonetheless.

And in my childrens' eyes, I am a hero. But it's more than that. I? Am a a bad-ass. Thank you very much. Now I have to go and curl up in a fetal position because that was a #$@& POISONOUS SPIDER! WHAT the hell was I thinking??  Tomorrow, I am headed to the nearest outdoor home store to purchase a supply of bricks. I am sure that spider has friends.  And they are going to be pissed.

This is an original post to Orange County Moms.

Tina is afraid of spiders, but she's more afraid of the piercing screams that come from scared children. They hurt her ears.  She often reacts before she thinks, and has to pick up the mess afterwards. If you like that sort of thing, you can read about her messes on her website Send Chocolate Now and on the OC Family blog, Trampled By Zebras.

photo copyright Tricia J. Adapted by Tina Cruz


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