Arachnophobia and mousecapades

Two stories...one post

I have an aversion to spiders. In a big way. I posted late last year about a spider problem I had in my last house (it's called Arachnophobia, or something like that, if you're inclined to go looking for it, coz right now I don't have time), and I'm pleased to say I'm glad I don't have to deal with that anymore.

My spider aversion comes from having a nest of baby spiders burst all over me in the dark, under our house, when I was little. At least, that's the short of it.

So, I was driving to gym from work on Friday afternoon. It was warm, so I had my window down and I was resting my arm on the door. I had to do something (who knows what), so I took my arm off the door. As I did, a huge huntsman spider crawled up where my arm had been, and onto the outside of the windscreen right in front of me. I swore - loudly and wound my window up as fast as I could. Did I mention it was warm outside? I couldn't stop where I was, so I did the next best thing - call the boy for moral support.

He tells me, in a voice that makes me unsure whether or not he's telling the truth, that the spider will like the airconditioning, find a vent and climb through the hole where the brake pedal is, and climb up my leg. At that point, I wanted to throw up, so I turned the airconditioning off. Well, what do I know about car design, or a spider's penchant for aircon vents? For all I knew, the boy was being serious.

I managed to get to gym, staring at the road around the outline of a foul-looking arachnid, probably suffering from heat stroke and just waiting for the opportunity to climb into my car and up my leg. I must have looked a bit strange, because the gym instructor asked me what was up. "Oh, I just drove all the way here with a huntsman in front of me". He questions whether I need his assistance or not. Feigning bravado, I tell him it's fine and it'll probably be gone in an hour anyway.

An hour later, I leave, and I'm asked again if I require assistance. Pfffft, I'll be fine, I say. Not so. The hairy menace is still on my windscreen, taunting me. I do what any brave chick would do. I grab my umbrella out of my car and start bashing my windscreen to get the little bugger to move. Of course, being the feisty little shit he was, he just dug in further.

I poked a bit more, till I got him to run around to my drivers' side door (keep in mind folks, our steering wheels are on the right hand side, so by now I'm standing in the middle of the street). And there he sat. Not good. So, looking like some crazed Pirates of Penzance reject, I kept jabbing at my car. And then I started laughing. I realised I looked like a complete madwoman, in the heat, in my gym gear, in the middle of the street, stabbing at my car with my umbrella. That's how the driver of the car that drove past, saw me.....laughing crazily and jousting with my umbrella. Needless to say, I finally got the damn thing off the car, only to have it land right beside the door, so I still couldn't get in. 'Assume sniper position on the road and poke feverishly till spider goes under car.' Sometimes you just gotta do these things.

The 40 minute drive home after that was a blur....with no airconditioning, just in case.

That was Friday. Today was looking like a normal day. I'd managed to survive a good 20 hours of it just fine (albeit with more girl probs, which I don't have the energy to post about right now). I'd packed the boy off to night shift, had some dinner and did a bit of a job search. My mum rang, so there I was, sitting, talking to her, when one of my lovely feline friends decided to bring me a present. A live one. "Gotta go mum, I'll call you back!" I like mice. Really. I even like snakes. The only thing I detest is spiders. So I wasn't bothered that my girl had brought me a live mouse.

She sat on the carpet, announced she had something for me and waited till I checked out what it was. I grabbed her, opened her mouth and the mouse scuttled a few inches away. Great, I thought, everyone's staying calm. Yeah, right! I went to grab the mouse by the tail and as I did (and in a move I still cannot comprehend), the mouse ran back into my cat's mouth! Ok, so mice really are stupid. No worries, I say to myself, I'll just pry her mouth open, grab the mouse, and take it down the street.

The mouse had other ideas. I haven't seen a mouse jump before. This one jumped. Out of my cat's mouth and straight up the inside of my track pants. I must have a talk with my neighbours about their lack of response to my high pitched scream of surprise. In a move a magician would be proud of, two things happened. I got my track pants off within a split second.....and the mouse vanished. Completely. Gone.

I start looking around my lounge room, then realise I had no underwear on (well, I was getting ready for bed!), so how I thought I was going to open the doors if the neighbours really did come to rescue me, I have no idea. The maniacal laugh that appeared during the spider incident, returned. I decided I'm truly disturbed.

The cat went back outside, I found some underwear (in case it's just a case of delayed reaction and the neighbours really will come to rescue me soon), and I vacuumed the lounge area. Still no mouse.

I rang the boy and told him we had a new pet. He's disappointed he's missed out on the two most exciting things that have happened to me this year. Methinks that's not a bad thing. He already calls me 'decidedly odd'. Lucky he likes me that way.