An arachnoid presence…
Last night we went out to dinner for my father in laws birthday. Nothing fancy and nobody puked, so we can consider it a major success.
When we left the restaurant, it was dark and Brett was driving. As he was pulling out of the parking lot, one of the street lights caught the windshield at just the right angle and we were able to see a giant spider leaping down towards the dashboard.
Listen lady, let’s review the rules before I relay the fiasco of the car ride:
1) Christine births the babies
2) Brett kills the spiders
There is no room for minor excuses like “I’m driving the car” or “my hand is on fire”. Did you see me making excuses while I labored for 18 hours when I had Cardin? No sir. Rule 76; no excuses, play like a champion.
So here we are, pulling out of the parking lot and the spider is in its death plummet towards me, fangs beaming….I yell to Brett to kill it.
He tells me to get something and do it myself!!!
Myself?? That isn’t part of the rules. At no point in our marriage vows was I all “I’m good with squishing spiders with my bare hands if you’re good with having the babies. ”
So I did the next best thing folks….I yelled to Cardin to throw me whatever toy she could reach….I was gonna beat the spider to death. Me vs. the creepy crawler. This is where it gets good ladies and gents. She hands me a bag. A BAG. The back of the car has little travel toys and she grabs a bag I keep back there in case Rory takes a massive dump and I need to throw our his diaper.
What am I gonna do with a bag??? Suffocate it? I mean, props to her for reacting in such an emergency and handing me anything; her heart was in the right place to come to moms rescue, but a bag?
Needless to say, creepy crawler fought to live another day.