Hojotoho! Heiaha! Heiaha!

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Ah, the battle cry of Brünhilde at the beginning of Act 2 of Wganer's Die Walküre - what a way to begin!

That was me today. I'm not kidding. That was the song playing in my head when I went into battle...in the basement. Except I wasn't armed with a sharp spear. Feast your eyes on my weapon:

Yes, that is soap. Irish Spring, to be exact. And it cut like buttah.

What in the world are you doing, Nicole???!!!

Why, I'm slaying spiders, of course.

Well, not really slaying, but ridding my world of those horrible, evil, denizens of Satan. That's my little nickname for them. I even made up a song. But I won't sing it for you, for now that I have laid the trap to slay them, I will not acknowledge their presence in the universe.

Last night I went down into the basement to do some laundry. As I reached the bottom of the stairs I saw an ENORMOUS black spider on the opposite wall. Of course, I yelled, "OH, GROSS!" But there was no one there to hear me. Then I looked to my left and saw ANOTHER one close to the ceiling on another wall. ENORMOUS. I could feel my blood pressure instantly rise. I was out of breath. "Oh my God oh my God oh my God," I kept saying. Then I said to myself, "Get a grip, Nicole. They are nowhere near you. They are just big bugs." Yeah. Big bugs. My mother always told me that those spiders weren't even thinking about me. Probably true, but that didn't change the fact that I felt like I was the next victim in a horror movie.

Would you believe that I actually started to shake? Then I thought to myself, "Nicole, you are being completely ridiculous." I looked at them for another moment and made myself say, "they're just big bugs, they're just big bugs" over and over again, then went to the laundry room to QUICKLY throw some clothes in. And oh God they were still there when I came out. I ran upstairs and slammed the door. Out of sight, out of mind. But I refused to use the downstairs bathroom directly across from the basement door. I did check a little later to see if there was an army of them crawling up the walls towards the basement door. I was totally prepared for it. There weren't any, of course, and I managed to actually survive the night.

Nicole, you are insane. Why, yes, I am. Well, not really - I just have an irrational fear of spiders. I don't even like seeing the word. It makes me feel like I'm going to puke. Although, I have improved much over the years. I used to scream and run from the room when I saw one. Now I just yell, "Oh, GROSS!" and my husband knows exactly what that means. In grad school some nice mama spider decided that my new car was the place to lay her nasty little nest, and for years I had to deal with those horrible gray little beasts in my car. I was terrified to drive at night. I even recklessly pulled over on the side of East Avenue in Rochester late one night after hanging with friends because they started walking up the inside of my windshield. Ugh. I feel sick just thinking about it.

But today I was ready for battle! Armed with a sure-fire way to drive them out of the house, I made my preparations. The materials had been purchased, and I sharpened my sword as I divided my arachno-kryptonite for dispersion. Ok, it wasn't really a sword, it was a butter knife but that just doesn't have the same ring to it. When all was ready, I began my journey. WOTAN - TO THE BASEMENT!

I approached to door quietly, as not to tip the evil creatures to my presence. I slowly eased the door open, then stepped back quickly, just in case they were waiting right inside the door. You think I'm kidding? Keep reading. Once I checked the walls for the enemy, I slowly tread down the stairs, the aroma from the arachno-kryptonite giving me courage as I descended into the bowels of hell. That stuff is strong, man. I approached the bottom of the stairs and slowly looked around, checking the walls. Nothing yet - but wait! There's a small black one on the wall - that makes 3 for crying out loud!!! Of course we all know if there's 1, there are 2, and if there are 2, well, there are lots. But let's not think about that. I crept forward, the arachno-kryptonite working it's magic. The air was pungent with it's strength. I carefully placed the magical lumps in strategic places. Hell, I put it everywhere. In ever window sill. On every ledge I could reach without putting my finger into a dark crevice. And I was exultant, crying, "Hojotoho! Heiaha! Heiaha!" On the inside, of course.

Did I go overboard? You betcha. Will the hubby be happy when he comes home and finds little pieces of Irish Spring all over the house? Doubtful. And do you think he'll comply when I ask him to put one in the far window sill in the basement because I was too chicken to go over there in broad daylight? You bet your boots. Because I'll give him that look that says I-know-it's-neurotic-and-probably-won't-work-but-your-crazy-wife-will-feel-better-if-you-do-it and he'll give in. He learned what that look meant early in our marriage and realized that life was easier if, on this occasion, you just went with the Nicole Logic, as he calls it. 


But now I feel free, baby. Even the bee that was buzzing behind the curtain in the living room seemed to drop dead when I put the arachno-kryptonite in the corner of the window sill. Mission accomplished. Onto the next battle...

Wait, why is there a bee in my house???!!!!  WOTAN -  TO ARMS!