No good asking me either...😔 I’m so ashamed. I always thought I was tolerant of spiders. That was until I felt a slight tickling on my shoulder, heading up to my neck. I tried to put it off, thinking it was a stray hair blowing around, tickling my shoulder because I had the fan on, for a second. “Nah, I thought. Really thought. It really can’t be. I’m just imagining it...”
Then I looked down at my shoulder. It was a bloody spider. A HUGE BLOODY SPIDER! And it was about to crawl up my neck! I totally freaked out. I had to un-peel myself off the ceiling. Meantime, naughty Mr Incy Wincy Spider had totally disappeared. Vamoosed. Gone. He couldn’t be found anywhere at all. I checked every crease in the sheets. I checked high and low. Then I checked low and then high. Just for good measure. Mr Incy Wincy Spider was too good at this hiding malarkey. Obviously he had a lot of practise. Too much practise. I wonder how long they lived, I wondered idly...
Night time had come. Still no sight of Mr Incy Wincy Spider. So with no sight of him, I slept with my cotton sheet, well tucked in. I then had the sheet pulled up over my head, my hands firmly clamped on the edges of the sheet, pulled tightly up over my head. No spider was going to share MY bed. Nor was Mr Incy Wincy Spider going to spoon me, while we both drifted off together into a harmonious state of bliss, into the wonderful land of sleep. Fat chance! No.Bloody.Way.
I was more than happy on my own, thank you very much. I don’t need spooning. Well, maybe if it was the new dishy window cleaner, I sighed. Nah, no way was he going to approach a [cough]’slightly’ overweight middle aged woman. Albeit blonde.
Having blonde hair is wonderful, you know. People genuinely think that I’m totally thick. Saddos. And treat me so. Big mistake. I invariably get the last laugh. By confusing them. Lure people into a false sense of security. Then ask. I get away with all sorts. Asking for cheeky discounts, extras, freebies, etc, by behaving like a total ditzyblonde
However, I’m not here to confess my sins. I’d start to gather dust, if I sat here and wrote them all down
.
So I thought that I was safe from Mr Incy Wincy Spider. I thought he’d gone off to terrorise somebody else. Or that he was working his way up the street, to see which house he liked best.
That was until three whole days later.
I was trying unsuccessfully to straighten my bed sheets. I was convinced that Mr Incy Windy Spider had moved to the end of the road by now. Whichever end of the road he gone, I thought, both houses had pets. He won’t last long there, surely not. He won’t be back. I wondered how far a spider could travel in one day though... Alexa won’t answer that one. I’ve tried. My Alexa’s suddenly acting all weird on me. She has suddenly gone from speaking Queen’s English to an American drawl. She pretends to not understand me unless I also speak with an American drawl accent too. DH’s convinced that I’ve finally cracked.
As I was idly ruminating, Mr Incy Wincy Spider, who I swear had grown 2 whole inches over the last three days, had somehow hidden himself into one of the multiple folds of my bed sheet. I like having multiple folds. In my sheets, that is, just to clarify. I sleep in a single sheet with extra large King size sheets. Crazy? Yes. Completely. Guilty as charged. I like to wrap the sheet around me. Plus I like to really tuck it in and for it to stay there. So nothing gets in. Except me. It usually works. Mr Incy Wincy Spider appears as suddenly as he has disappeared! I yelp. Then I gulp. Get a grip woman, I tell myself! It’s an absolute bloody fraction of the size of you! Don’t remind me. Yes, I admit that I need to diet, but surely when people compare humans to the size of animals, and vice versa, isn’t that being somewhat sizeist?
“OH, FFS, GET A GRIP WOMAN” I shout at myself. Hhhmmm, now I’m really worried. Isn’t talking to yourself the first sign of madness? Come on, I tell myself. I’m getting distracted and I need to solve the problem in question out. No more procrastinating. So I grab some tissue and jump back on the bed. Frantically this time, I search amongst the numerous, voluminous folds. Flinging other detritus that gathers on my bed that has been ‘lost’, onto a nearby table. Finding other things that I thought I’d lost. Including the window cleaner’s number. There is an awful lot of sheet here, after all. Half an hour later, I’m hot and sweaty, I then see him and pounce. Got him! I’ve finally got him.
“I’ve got him” I yell loudly. Crumbs, I think. Crikey knows what the new neighbours think now that I’ve said that too, especially in view of what I said earlier! No wonder they won’t talk to me. So I hold the tissue firmly in my hand. Not too firmly though. I can’t squash Mr Incy Wincy spider.
I really can’t, as I climb off my bed. I head towards the bathroom, pull up the loo seat and popped him down. After all, they have a bubble of air around them, don’t they, spiders. A defence thing. I’m sure it was on some science programme.
Oh. Then I realised... I can feel the colour drain from my face. I shiver involuntarily.
Incy Wincy Spider climbs up the pipe,... but how far and how quickly, exactly?! Spiders can climb up vertically too, I realise with a jolt...