This past weekend our family went through more arachnophobia. In my last story about that, I mentioned my oldest son coming to me in the middle of the night telling me he had seen a big, black, hairy tarantula in his room. I didn't believe him and neither did his father. We thought it was his imagination or he had been dreaming or anything to make us able to sleep at night. We were sleeping totally unaware. My husband was spraying the outside of our house with spider repellent when all of a sudden the door bursts open and he yells, "Dee! Get out here, quick!" I thought, "What in the world has him freaking out like this?" and walked out the front door. He pointed to the corner where our house meets the garage and I looked up. There on the wall of my house was the biggest, blackest, hairiest tarantula I had ever seen in person. I just could not believe my eyes. I ran inside and told the boys to get outside to see this thing. Nat took one look and said, "I told you there was a tarantula in my room."
Doc and I have actually been tweeking with the idea of going on a date. I know. Totally weird. Not the idea of doing something romantic. It's the idea that we actually might have the guts to dump our offspring on some unsuspecting person. This has always been a hard decision for us to make. I mean, we do watch the news and let's face it, we're paranoid. That's probably why we haven't been on a real date that didn't include scarfing down our food as fast as we can and running back home to see if it's still standing and no one is bleeding. Just the other day, I asked Doc, "So, are we going out for Chinese tonight?" I was crossing my fingers mentally, chewing on my lip. I so wanted to be irresponsible. We haven't been on a date in forever and I was craving Chinese like crazy. I suggested that our 13-year-old son get a chance to hold down the fort for a couple hours. I even turned on my sexy voice and said, "We'll have our cell phone with ...
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