So, I had a discussion with MB recently about the spider infestation in our home and he actually agreed that it was a problem.
For those of you who are new to the Bitz, I'll give you the low down. We have a spider infestation and I have severe, SEVERE arachnophobia. It makes me do very bizarre things like this. You should totally go read that and then decide if you want to continue reading on or if you want to get as far away from the crazy lady as you can.
Go ahead. I'll wait.
Doobie, doobie doo....
Sticking with me? Well, thank you. I appreciate that.
So, our infestation seems to have reached epic proportions. Partly because I am too much of a lily livered, yellow bellied, chicken shit to actually tackle the problem. Okay, that's the only reason.
Our laundry room/tool storage area is the most neglected area of our home. I despise doing laundry and MB isn't all that handy. What can I say? We have other strengths.
Due to our neglect of that room, the spiders have decided to take over. The entire ceiling is covered in a layer of cobwebs. Whenever I do venture into the room, which is when we both run out of clean underwear, it's a nightmare.
I have to wear head gear and a protective suit that may or may not be made of tin foil. I tried to convince MB to get me some haz mat suits from the firehouse, but apparently they are very expensive.
Tin foil isn't all that cheap either. But, whatever.
Once I get all geared up, I am still on high alert as my biggest fear is that the spiders will drop from the ceiling and envelope me in cobwebs. MB will come home to my fat ass strung up to the ceiling, spiders sucking all the fat out of my...well, everywhere.
I don't think it's an irrational fear. It could totally happen. I have a lot of fat.
Today, my dear hubby actually decided to tackle the cobweb ceiling. This was after he called an exterminator, was told it wasn't worth it to spray for spiders and decided we should attack them on our own. Then, I told him I was absolutely, positively, under no circumstances going to have any part whatsoever in tackling that particular room.
I must have made myself clear because he agreed to go in there and take care of it.
Armed with the long handled thingy that you use to clean ceiling fans, he began to knock down the cobwebs. I stood at a safe distance, close to the exit and watched him with tears in my eyes.
Not tears of joy or pride. Tears of fear. He thought it was hilarious that just watching him do this sent me into hysterics.
God, I love that man. He's so supportive.
He finished the job and it actually doesn't look like a labyrinth in there. Now, I have no excuse to avoid doing laundry.
Wait...I may have been duped on this one. Dammit!