Friday, June 9, 2017

Spiders, Roaches and Behemoths, Oh My!

Summer in North Carolina is fraught with danger.  With the summer humidity comes the bugs of summer...the spiders and the centipedes, the millipedes and last but not least, THE ROACHES!  We call them wood roaches, water bugs, and Palmetto bugs.  Whatever we call them, they are big, black and nasty.  Last week we were being terrorized by a BAR (Big Ass Roach) that appeared and disappeared for three days straight. Each time I screamed and panicked because, unlike the strong  woman I profess to be, I turn into a weak whimpering pillar of jello around bugs. Finally upon the 4th sighting of this creature-of-epic-proportions, Skip charged it in his socks and began stomping like Savion Glover. Skip's tap-dancing ability when faced with the task of killing large bugs is legendary. He is a shining example of a quick study. "Why Skip!  I had no idea you had such ability!  Where did you learn to do that?"
"I watched lots of Gregory Hines."
"I'm impressed."
I was reminded of the time that Skip killed a monster on the driveway of our friend's home.  I thought that it was a frog but in fact it was a female wolf spider carrying all of her hundreds of babies on her back.  Ordinarily, my motherly instincts kick in and I want to save a mother and her babies; but not when it comes to wolf spiders!  
"Kill it!  KILL IT!  KILL IT!" I yelled.  And here again, Skip went into action dancing his way around the driveway as he stomped and twirled, jumped and leaped, executing perfect pirouettes and choreography a la Rudolf Nureyev. When at last he was done I gave him a standing ovation.

I am reminded of the years when I called upon my mother to kill the bugs and crawly things that spawned instant panic as I would scream for help.  She was always there with her fly swatter, with the rolled up newspaper, or even the flat of her hand.  Even as an adult I recall the time I was about a mile from her house in a new subdivision sales office.  I was alone in the early evening with one hour left before going home.  I was just finishing some paperwork when I saw something move in the periphery of my vision.  Was it a mouse? Nope! It was a mean ol' wolf spider.  I couldn't leave with that thing roaming around my office and so I called for the security guard by depressing the panic button.  The security guy was undoubtedly sleeping in his car in some cul-de-sac in the subdivision.  I sat and waited and watched.  Meanwhile the Behemoth creature evaluated whether it could consume me in one meal. Worrying that I could not escape I began looking for alternative means of rescue.  Aha!  The solution lived just down the hill: my mother -- killer of tomato worms, potato bugs and spiders of all sizes.  I picked up the phone and called.
"Hi Mom?  What are you doing right now?"
"Cooking dinner.  Why?"
"I need you.  It's an emergency.  Can you please come quick?"
"WHAT'S WRONG?!"  She was already alarmed.
"I need you to come kill a spider."
There was silence on the other end of the line.  "Um...did you say, you want me to drop everything to come kill a spider?"  She began to laugh.
"This is not just any spider, Mom.  This is a BIG spider.  P-L-E-A-S-E come quick."
"Oh my God! You are kidding me right?"
"Mommy?" I whimpered.   
"Okay."
"Oh, and bring a rifle!"  I warned as I underscored the fact that this was a huge beast.
"Ha!  I'll bring a tissue."

I waited for what seemed like hours.  All the while the angry Demon from Hell paced back and forth eyeing me and salivating as it planned its attack.  Then before it could take action  my mother walked in and slammed the door.  It must have caused enough vibration that the monster took off for the bathroom in the back and crawled under the door.  
"Okay," Mom announced calmly and more than a little mockingly.  "Where is this little spider?"
I pointed towards the closed door.  "In there!"
Now (finally) the security guard arrived having been alerted to the panic buzzer, opened the door and eyed my mother suspiciously.  "What seems to be the trouble here?"
Mom answered for me.  "A spider," she laughed.
"Really?  A spider?  Hahahahahaha."  They both were doubled up with laughter.  
I refused to be intimidated by their mirth.  I pointed at the door and told them to go get it.  They walked into the bathroom and turned on the light.  I remained in my office, curled in my chair with my feet off the floor, eyes bulging in terror.  Then I heard the blood curdling screams from the security guard as his voice rose three octaves.  "My God!  It's HUGE!"
There was lots of banging, thumping, stomping, pounding.  I waited and hoped that between the two of them they had triumphed in battle.  Finally they emerged war-weary soldiers.  Their faces told me all I needed to know. They had been victorious but not unscarred.  My mother told me, "That was the biggest spider I have ever seen in my entire life."
I felt totally vindicated.  

Now as I face the new threats of bugs the size of my fist that fly in, scurry across the floor, and jump out to surprise me when I least expect it, I bemoan the approach of the dog days of Summer. It is the time of year when we are accosted by the hungry creatures of The Wild Kingdom. Ah the misery of awakening to each new day knowing that today could be the day that a giant roach could be my pillow mate or might be awaiting me in the kitchen.  We have surrounded ourselves with Roach Motels, guns and grenades.  I think we will survive but this is WAR, people!  We will take no hostages. 

  

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