Vengeance will by mine, Mr. Hairy Spider…

image For the last two nights, my youngest daughter has come running down the stairs about 10 minutes after going to bed. The reason? A big, hairy black spider she said is roughly the size of a Chihuahua. Being a dutiful father, I immediately rushed upstairs the first night and, to my utter horror, walked in to discover…

Absolutely nothing.

“It was on the ceiling just looking at me,” swore my daughter.

The next night, she called from upstairs so she could keep an eye on it. As I came to the door, the spider apparently dropped down the wall and behind her dresser. With my daughter standing behind me, I yanked the dresser away from the wall and shrieked in terror when, AT LAST, I laid my eyes upon…

Absolutely nothing.

Again.

“It’s like he’s toying with me!” she cried.

I put my arm around her shoulder and reasured her as best I could. “Don’t assign it a gender, Honey,” I said. “It’s only going to make it more angry if you’re wrong.”

So as we enter into our third night in this twisted game of psychological warefare, I make the following promise to you, Mr. Arachnid…

____________________________________________________________________________________

(Ned Hickson is a syndicated columnist with News Media Corporation. His first book, Humor at the Speed of Life, is available from Port Hole Publications, Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.)

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37 thoughts on “Vengeance will by mine, Mr. Hairy Spider…

  1. Spiders are the one thing I’m afraid of. I had one at work – one of the large black “bitey” spiders – and when I screamed, one of the secretaries ran in and said, “Let me take care of it. I have kids, and I’m good at killing spiders.” Then she saw the spider, and screamed, “Ohmigod, that’s a tarantula!” I had to deal with the darn thing myself.

  2. In spite of the fact that I haven’t stopped working long enough to read a single blog in over two weeks, the word S.P.I.D.E.R. jumped out at me, like…well…like a S.P.I.D.E.R! And because you are my friend, I will admit to you that which I have never told another living soul (except anyone within a 25 mile radius who happens NOT to have plugged up their ears with cotton, or…S.P.I.D.E.R.S.)…I am TERRIFIED of arachnids! Yes, I…the Snake Lovin’, Alligator Wrasslin’ Granny of Central Florida…can’t be in the same room with anything that has EIGHT HAIRY LEGS! (My first husband once said to me, “I guess that pretty much rules out group sex, huh?” Which might explain he’s known as my FIRST husband, and not my present one.)

    And tarantulas? I just want to get a 55-gallon drum of Raid, go all Armageddon on their fuzzy backsides.

    I don’t envy you, Ned Hickson. Even armed with the very latest in high-tech S.P.I.D.E.R. slaughtering devices as you are…you’re up against a formidable foe. With EIGHT, count ’em, EIGHT legs. (Did I mention HAIRY?)

    I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers tonight, as you once again go forward into the fray.

    PS…you’ll notice I cleverly spell out the dreaded word, with periods between each letter, thus keeping it a mere collection of alpha-BITS , instead of allowing it to turn into a real creature, running around on ceilings with its EIGHT. LEGS. Which are HAIRY.

    Blecch.

    • LOL! Wait, aren’t Thor’s legs hairy? Would it bother you if there were eight of those?

      Thanks for your vote of confidence and prayers. I will offer an update if necessary, depending on who gets the upper hand β€” or leg β€” tonight.

      • Oh, dear, sweet, INNOCENT Ned! THOR is blonde…and Norwegian…and a GOD. He isn’t troubled by excess body hair. (My fantasy, my rules! :D) And yes, yes it would. Bother me if he had 8 legs, that is. Urk. Talk about a fantasy killer. πŸ˜€

  3. Hahaha, if it was my nephew he would try to catch it. He tried to catch a red back spider with a body over an inch long the other day because he thought he would turn into Spiderman. I told my brother it was an excellent example of why he should not be letting a three year old watch the Spiderman movies. His response was to let him watch the Hulk… my nephew broke his bike playing “Hulk smash” πŸ™‚

      • If only. He would probably break someones toes (if not his own) doing the hammer smash down move LOL. He calls my Husband Thor because he has blonde curly hair and blue eyes… I’ll leave the carpentry to him hahaha.
        Feel free to take on the Thor persona yourself and take a hammer to that spider though… just watch the walls πŸ™‚

  4. Whew, Ned, that video was gripping. I just got in and saw your post, so I played the video. There was a skittering of little feet and a slew of little 8-legged creatures darted for the doors and windows – accompanied by tiny shrieks of terror. I thank you for your dedication to freeing the world from the clutches of the arachnids.

  5. reminds me of the time in high school when i came home from a party and needed a bowl of cereal before going to bed, i opened the dishwasher to hide any evidence of the “munchies” and saw a mouse. i slammed the dishwasher door shut & immediately woke my father at 1:00 am to get the mouse. also being the dutiful father, he came downstairs, opened the dishwasher and saw no evidence of an animal in the dishwasher.

    although i may not have been at my most astute after the party, i knew i wasn’t so far gone as to be seeing animal mirages . . . . so after dad assured me there was not a mouse living in the dishwasher, he went back to bed and i sat in the kitchen and waited. after just about enough time for my father to fall asleep, i opened the dishwasher, saw the mouse and screamed loud enough to wake my father without having to go up the stairs and get him a second time. he came back down, opened the door and there was nothing! he went back to bed and i sat in the kitchen and waited.

    sometime around 2:00 am my older brother came home and had some cereal. i just sat in the kitchen and watched him. when he finished, he opened the dishwasher and the mouse ran right across the opened door, jumped to the floor and escaped – never to be seen again.

  6. The only time I can recall seeing a spider at my apartment is the night hubs and I were sitting on the balcony. I spotted a black widow and made sure we caught the damn thing and killed it. With three cats (plus us humans of course) I didn’t want to take any chances of being bitten. We’re poor, damn it. We can’t afford doctor or vet bills! That spider had to die.

No one is watching, I swear...

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