My Memory: she’s not so much what you would call “good”.

EEK!!

EEK!!

I don’t like spiders. That’s not fair. I can’t say I don’t like them because I’m sure there are some very nice spiders out there once you get to know them. The general population of spiders as a whole, however, scare the bejezus outta me. They’re creepy and gross and just….keep them away. I can’t even read the spider pages in the Predators Book I got in London that Jaden’s thoroughly intrigued with. She understands, though (bless her) and will turn to the next page for me without asking, “What’s that?” (big nasty gross yellow spider thing. Marcoda hates you! Go away!) This is why I will never ever live south of the Mason Dixon line or anywhere near a desert. I guess spiders are bigger and more poisonous there than the little daddy long legs we got going on up here in da nort’. (But there are WOLF SPIDERS in the woods here, people! I don’t know what wolf spiders are (and refuse to google image them because, hi, I’m not THAT stupid), but anything with those two words put together cannot be good. Although I adore wolves.)

 

 

 

I love double parentheticals. I imagine my high school English teachers cringing whenever I use them.

 

Speaking of school, (Best unintended segue EVER!) when I was in the 5th grade,  I got a spider bite on my neck. ON MY NECK! It itched and was big and…and…and spider-bite-like and ON MY NECK! I showed my mom and, being the sympathetic type that she is, told me that spiders lay their eggs in the bite, that’s why it’s so big and puffy. I freaked the fuck out. The next day at school I told my teacher about it. I don’t remember her reaction but I’m sure it was some mixture of disbelief and shock. (that poor teacher. Near the end of the year I faked a hyperventilating episode when I found out the library was closing for the year. That was the only time a teacher ever yelled at me: “That is NOT funny!”)  

 

As I’m sure you know, spiders do not lay their eggs in their bite victims. I had seen and read “Charlotte’s Web” enough times that I should’ve been able to figure out that my mom was full of shit. I blame the fact that my mom has a very dry sense of humor that I hadn’t quite caught on to at that time. That she was pulling my leg wasn’t the problem, though. What really made me mad was the fact that for years she denied ever saying this to me. “Why would I tell you something like that?!” she would ask and I would reply, “Why wouldn’t you?! You are a twisted twisted woman!”

 

A couple years ago I came across a copy of “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark”. It’s one of, I think, three books full of scary stories aimed at the 9-13 year old age set. I laughed when I saw it and thought, “wow, I remember these things. Hilarious.” As I thumbed through it, I came across a story of a woman who awoke one morning to find a small lump on her cheek. It puzzled her but she thought little of it. As days passed, the lump grew larger and larger until one day she saw movement under the skin. Suddenly, the bump split open and out came hundreds of….

 

Baby spiders.

 

I apologized to my mom the next day. She demanded I call my fifth grade teacher and clear her name.

 

I didn’t.

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One Response

  1. […] – bookmarked by 4 members originally found by shmlx on July 17, 2008 My Memory: she’s not so much what you would call “good”. […]

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