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Hormones and Spiders - a bad combination

Last night, I was totally exhausted. It had been a long day and no matter how I sat or laid, I could not get comfortable. After an hour of tossing and turning on the couch, I told Matt that I was headed to our bedroom to watch the season opener of Top Chef. Every pillow went behind my back until somehow I found a okay position, for at least a few minutes. The show started and held my attention as I watched 16 people do things with food that I've never seen before. Several times throughout the hour, I swatted away a fly that kept getting near my head, never taking my eyes off of the t.v. With 20 minutes left in the show, I casually looked down and saw a huge, monstrous spricket sitting on my thigh. Screaming bloody murder, I ran through the house, ripping my pants off as fast as I could, finally collapsing into Matt's arms, a mass of tears and hysteria.

When the words finally came out, my super-hero husband immediately went into our bedroom, flashlight in hand, and began looking for the perpetrator. And what was I doing during his brave act of heroism? With no pants on, I found myself curled up on our couch weeping like a little baby. Now, I've never been a friend of spiders. And most people who know me, know that I can't stand the little things. But weeping was a bit much, even for me. When the hysterics finally came to an end (I so wish that I am exaggerating), I was left with a quivering, mascara covered, red eyed face, and terrified to go back into our bedroom. You see, the nasty little perp was no where to be found.

Matt gave up the hunt after about 5 minutes and returned to his computer game. I sat on the couch, desperate to take my mind off of the missing spider as I watched the rest of the show. Of course, the spricket was all that I could think of. So I prayed. That's right - I prayed "Jesus, you know me better than anyone else. And you know that I won't be able to go back into our bedroom to sleep tonight until that little monster is gone. So Jesus, help us to find him tonight, before I get into bed." No, I didn't feel foolish for praying such a prayer, because it was totally serious. There would be no sleeping that night with a spricket loose in the house!

Five minutes later, I'm looking down the hall into our bedroom when I notice a spot on the carpet. Now, we have lots of stains on our outdated carpet, so I didn't think much about it at first. However I remembered that spot was not one of our many stains. So, bravely (ha ha) I tiptoed down the hall and carefully stood at the edge of our door, making sure that no part of me entered the "crime scene". And that's when I spotted him! "MAAAAAATT!!!!" Again my brave hero came running down the hall to answer his damsel in distress. Then, he did what only a strong, gallant man would do - he stomped on him.

After the commotion died down, I spent some time reflecting on the events of the night. I've come to the conclusion that my pregnancy hormones must have played a major role in my rather dramatic reaction to the perpetrator in question. Surely, I am not that over the top. :) I also am proud of the fact that my precious husband not only rose to the occasion and took care of things, but he never once questioned my blubbering and hyperventilation. He just took it in stride and held me close. Now, that's a good man.

I went to sleep last night finally able to relax and rest - at least until I had to get up to pee 15 times!

**those of you familiar with sprickets from Anderson College can understand my intense hatred of them. ick.

Comments

Rachel said…
Hi Sara,

I've been away from home for the last year and had totally forgotten about your blog until I came home and booted up my old computer and went through some of my bookmarks and rediscovered it. Just wanted to say that Lucas looks adorable and congratulations on your soon to be second child! I love reading your blog because it is so positive, even when things aren't going perfectly. Hope the hormones settle down a little!

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