I have to be brave in front of my boys. I don't know why I try any more. They have heard their father scream like a little girl. In my hand, I have a shoe - which is shaking because.. well.. I am. I know I only have one shot to kill this guy because I use guerrilla tactics (ambush, freak out, flee, send in Jenni). If after my first strike I drop my shoe - he is now armed... no longer a civilian spider... he is a combatant.
Luckily, I killed him in one shot. I conquered the spider - I feel victorious, manly... and a little queasy. Now, I have to deal with the aftermath of war (cleaning up the carcass). I don't mind this as much (even though I have had a spider fake death and jump at me one last time). I can't lose my head. I have to stay focused on the task at hand. So, with no less that 18 paper towels I send Lucas to clean up the spider carcass.
I'm not ashamed. Once, I broke my thumb nail jamming my hand into the textured ceiling wearing a glove fashioned from paper towels. The spider (which I'm pretty sure was laughing) slowly started falling from the ceiling, descending on its silk. Actually, it was dead but I let out a nice little "nyaaahh" as I fell backwards off the coffee table. I used one paper towel to clean up that spider... I needed the rest to stop the bleeding.
Again, I'm not ashamed... but my family is.
