Maybe if we name it...

There's been something going on in my life that I've been completely reluctant to write about.  Not because it's personal or anything, but I'm just going to bite the bullet.  Our home has taken on another resident.  It's been here about a week and a half now.  They say no matter where you are you're no further than 6 feet away from a spider.  Well, when I'm on the couch in my usual spot I am about 5 feet, one thin pane of glass and one screen away from one heck of a big, creepy spider.  It is about the size of a half-dollar including legs and its body is roughly the size of a dime with a big, thick abdomen. 

This spider has caused much rending of cloth and gnashing of teeth on my end.  I open the blind and it like charges down its web at me causing me to squeal and shriek and get the shakes and do that little fast stamping of feet we women do when we're equal parts scared and grossed out. 

The only reason I have not written about this before is because I feel like if I give power to this thing, this bane of my existence by publicly declaring my fear it will find a way into my home at night and while I'm laying in bed will slow-motion crawl its way up my leg, Arachnophobia style, and kill me because I don't have a flaming nail gun like Jeff Daniels had to kill his would-be spider attacker.  *Note to self: Keep flaming nail gun within reach at all times."   The monster spider would then, of course, kill me.  And though not my most nightmarish way to die...  that would be being buried alive...  it would still be most unfortunate. 

My husband, of course, is Mr. Practical and is all, "Hey, it's killing stinkbugs...  it's providing a service."  And even though I now truly believe that if the apocalypse is tomorrow...  zombie or otherwise...  that stinkbugs are all that would survive.  Well stinkbugs and Florence Henderson, because looking that good at 76 obviously means that she's too fly to die.  That being said, I'd take stinkbugs over this spider any day of the week.  All one hundred billion of them.  So I was not swayed by my husband's rational logic. 

Today, however, I was feeling like I must learn to coexist with this terrifying beast which lead to the following conversation between me and my husband whilst I gazed upon the spider's gruesome visage. 

Me:  Maybe if I name it, it won't scare me so much. 

Mister:  Maybe, if that works.

Me:  Ok, Lucy.  Her name is Lucy.

Mister:  Sure.   Feel better?

Me: Not even close.

Mister:  Do you want me to kill her?

Me:  *horrified gasp* But she has a NAME!!!  

My husband shall be nominated for sainthood someday... I swear he will.

So without further ado:

[caption id="attachment_315" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Internet, meet Lucy. I assume she'll be with us til Winter."][/caption]