I hate spiders. I am sure many of you out there are thinking, “Yeah, so what?” Well, let me clarify. I hate spiders due to my unhealthy fear of the little buggers. “Are there reasons for this fear other than the fact that spiders are not that cute and cuddly to look at?”

Why, yes, dear reader there are. The insane fear of spiders goes back to my Boy Scouts days. Yes, dear reader, I was once a member of Baden Powell’s boys. I was at one point trustworthy, loyal, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. I once attempted to do a good turn daily. At one time in my life I promised “to do my duty to God and country and obey the Scout Law; to help other people at all times; to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, and morally straight.” Much has changed since then. I am marginally trustworthy. I am still loyal. To some I am friendly and/or courteous. I choose “funny” over “kind.” I am obedient unto myself and pretty much myself alone. I am cheerful sometimes. I eat lunch out way too much to be considered thrifty. I am brave in the face of spiders. I am clean once a week whether I need to be or not. I am most assuredly irreverent. I see where I could do good turns daily. I help other people when it is convenient to me. I am not at my peak physical condition. I am pretty much mentally asleep, and I am still morally straight according to my own set of ethics and standards. Times have changed, but I am no longer 15 any more. Anyway… I digress away from my “beginning to fear and loathe spiders story.” Whilst in the Boy Scouts, at my first Summer Camp, I awoke with three wolf spiders crawling around on my face. Accompanying those 3 spiders where a couple more on my chest and arms.

Yep, that will do it. I hate spiders with a passion now. Can’t stand them. Yeeee-uck! Now when ever I see spiders I cringe and shudder. Also, this experience has left me with a near autonomic response when brushed up against in bed. Let me explain this more fully. Let’s say Wifey rolls over in bed and her big toe lightly brushes up against my calf whilst we are in the wonders of slumberland. I usually bolt out of bed with a childlike squeaky intake of breath and end up at least 2 feet away from the bed before the comforter hits the mattress. I will be breathing heavily (no, not because of the lack of physicality that I entail these days) because of the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the hammering of my newly awakened heart.

All of this reaction is much to the delight of Wifey. She says that she doesn’t actively set off my spider sense, but her giggles at my discomfort say otherwise.

To recap:
During Little Man’s bedtime routine last night, a spider was crawling on Wifey’s chest
She got rid of it none too nonchalantly
I was primed for spider thoughts last night
I only had to jump out of bed once
I heard giggling
Hey, I hear giggling right now…