Okay, here is a better picture. The spider just did not work. I wasn't trying to scare anybody, and it's probably too late now, but here is Data, our little hero. Colleen, tell me you're not still screaming.
I did not grow up with the Munsters or the Addams Family. Honestly, I didn't. I grew up on a farm. Just because I name our spiders--really, it means nothing. I simply appreciate the fact that the spiders I name eat the bugs I hate. Charlotte the 15th is now hanging out--literally--outside our sunroom, and I get to watch her weave her beautiful, creative webs. Amazing.
Writing spiders like Charlotte in Charlotte's Web are perfectly harmless and they help us get rid of all the flying insects that enter at our door every time it opens to let a cat in or out. So I welcome our leggy neighbors.
Mel, on the other hand, hasn't quite caught on yet. After fifteen years, you'd have thought I could have convinced him. His reluctance may have something to do with the many brown recluse spiders we've found in our house. It's a good thing they're recluses, because THEY aren't harmless.
Last night, Mel mowed while I herded the cats inside and fed them and put them to bed. Our black and white kitty, Data, loves to chase and catch spiders and bugs and all kinds of creepy-crawlies. He's such a little hero. But last night he ate cat food, oblivious of the repast he could have enjoyed.
I knew it was getting dark, and though our lawn mower has headlights, I kind of hoped Mel would come in pretty soon. He doesn't do well in the dark. He's not afraid of the dark, but he tends to run into things. I didn't want him to wreck the lawn mower.
Long after the sun had set, I heard the mower shut off and the garage door lower with it's squeaky gears. Mel stepped in, eyes wide.
"Sweetheart, did you hear that little girl scream?" he asked.
"What? No! What happened?"
"No, I'm saying, did you hear the little-girl scream. From me."
"You screamed like a little girl?" And then I realized. "Charlotte got you?"
He shuddered. "Do you know how many Charlottes are out there, hanging in reach of my face?"
"Oh, honey, tell me the neighbors didn't hear you."
"They could hear me at the airport! With the jets going! I'm telling you, don't step outside the door or you'll be eaten!"
I laughed. And laughed. And then I doubled over, tears running down my face. "You screamed like a little girl at a harmless creation of God barely the size of the end of your finger?"
"The size of my hand, at least. Sweetheart, just don't go out there tonight."
I didn't. But I did laugh a few more minutes before we went to bed. Then laughed a couple of times as Mel was dozing off. I'd warned him, you know. Before he married me, he could have cut and run. He'd hiked with me several times with a huge stick held in front of us, breaking the way through the spider webs on the trail in the fall. He could have backed out. He didn't. He's stuck now.
Heheheheh...
So...got any scary stories?
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