Me Man, You Spider

How can I describe to y'all, my phobia for large spiders?

I'm afraid of large spiders.
(And any other large insect for that matter)

Was it really that easy? Because its more than that, more than just a phobia. Not only am I afraid of them, but they cause me to have a very physical kind of ridiculous reaction. I twitch and shudder, I can't get a grip on my breathing, I choke on my own saliva, I'd even go as far as saying that I have an all out panic attack. No matter how many times I see them, screams escape from my mouth and my body starts jerking around as if something out of this world is inside of my brain pulling on my nerves like puppet strings. Its all very embarrassing, and I'm sorry to anyone who has ever had to witness it. Now with that being said...

Yesterday Christopher comes into the house, throws the door open with excitement really, and asks me if its a bad idea for him to burn a spider. "Burn a spider? Um... if you-" "Hes the size of a mouse!" (which, funny thing- every wolf spider hes ever seen outside has been the "size of a mouse", so for it to actually be the size of a mouse, he'd have to describe it as being the size of a jack rabbit), he yells, before I could even finish my sentence. At that point, I look over and notice the white bottle of charcoal starter lighter fluid in his hand. It doesn't matter what I was planning on saying back to him (even though it was probably what he wanted to hear, something like "kill it! keep it the heck away from me! Protect me, you big strong man!"), I knew he was going to burn the spider. That spider was as good as dead from the second he crawled out from underneath Christopher's storm flipped barbecue.



So that's what he did. He set set it on fire. I went outside a little bit later, forgetting that the spider had ever existed, only to be practically pounced on by an eager Christopher, who shouts "Hes on the garbage can!". Before I could even ask myself what was on the garbage can, my eyes darted to the right, and settled on a large fuzzy mass. *enter twitching and uncontrollable arm movements here*

Dangit. WHY Christopher, why would you do that?!

He proudly ran over to his kill, as if he had just caught us a months worth of dinner, and ever so gently picked him up with a wrench, putting his burnt and defeated prey on display. While I was in the middle of flinching and trying to catch my breath, I couldn't help but notice that when he turned the blackened and shriveled up spider on his side, it looked amazing. Since when do I think that things like that are amazing? I don't. It must have been my flu getting the better of me. No matter the reason, I picked up my camera, and took a picture.


The sight of me taking a picture of the very dead spider, must have been hilarious to an outsider. Every single time I looked at the screen, I freaked. Time, after time, after time, after time. Every click of the zoom, every adjustment of the lighting, whenever my focus got anywhere near one of its eight legs or popped body (apparently venum explodes?), I freaked. After at least 30 attempts at getting a picture, my finger hit the capture button as just the right time. "Ok, that's enough, throw it away, get rid of it get rid of it!".

So, I guess what I'm sayin' here is... don't try to move into our barbecue. You'll get burned (..no no, I know).