04-11-17 Don’t Panic

“Don’t panic,” I whispered to myself when I saw the eight legs attached to the grotesquely large spider standing between me and the outside. I had just brought Big E in to use the bathroom when I turned around and saw it. “Darn it, I’m the adult here. I can’t freak out.” Guys, this spider was huge. Really, really large. He stared me down with all of his eyes while I stared him down with the only two I have. I had to think fast, Big E would be finished in a moment and there’s no way that this thing could still be here. I grabbed the closest thing I could find, C’s sandal she left lying in the entry way. Naturally I should have struck a fatal blow, but my squeamishness and fear rendered me temporarily useless, and the tossing of the sandal towards the beast did little, but make it angry. It lunged forward, past the shoe and straight towards me. I screamed. Big E screamed. We both screamed in unison. I found my tennis shoe next, and with all the courage I could muster I slammed the shoe on top of the moving target. Dead. Splattered. Legs strewn across my floor. And there his carcass would remain until my husband came home… OR SO I THOUGHT.

Upon returning from the beach this evening, having totally forgotten about the dead creature that lay within our walls, I told the kids to put away their shoes. As I entered the house, I realized my error too late. I looked down, but there was no spider. “Where did he go?” Surely the children would have screamed in horror had their bare feet come in contact with it. Surely I would have known. But they stared up at my confusion with innocent ignorance. No, they did not step on it. What happened? I scoured the entry way only to find him, well, most of him… On Big E’s back pack. More specifically smeared along the closed zipper of his bag, legs pointing here and there, spider entrails hidden in shadows.

And that, my dear friends, is where he will remain until my husband comes home.

The End.



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