The art of being a good guest is to know when to leave.

Yesterday we had a guest.  The guest was a quiet guest, perhaps a tad sleepy, certainly not particularly hungry.  And the guest didn’t like to bounce around and make a fool of himself.  The guest was in my living room when I got up to feed the cat at some ridiculous hour of the morning, was still there at eleven[ish] when I pointed it out to The Blokey, had not moved after we’d been out for hours, and had obviously fallen into a deep slumber by the time I went to bed at some ridiculous hour of this morning.

The guest had decided that enough was enough by the time I got up to feed the cat at some less-ridiculous hour this morning. 

Oh, but that’s super!  No more guest!  Nobody to keep a wary eye on!  Nobody to entertain!

Well yes, it would be super if that guest were not some freakishly gigantic huge-bodied, hairy pencil width legged, monstrosity of a spider.  Because said guest has presumably decided that sitting in an unreachable corner of the ceiling [with a tellybox, woofer thingy and surround speaker saving it from an inevitable death (and I would have sucked it up the Dyson if I thought it would fit up the hose-thingy)] is no fun anymore and it wants to play the I’ll hide and they won’t know where I am for about three days until I suddenly run across the living room, making that six foot something of a blokey scream like a girl and the cat cower behind the settee [honestly, she’s the wussiest of wussy pussy cats] game.

And I’ll have to be the grow’d up person who gets rid of it [all the while shuddering and sweating and squealing like a pig].

I can cope with little teeny-weeny money spiders.  I always imagine them as having cute little bubbly personalities, rushing around looking for nice folk and then proclaiming Oh, he looks nice, let’s make him happy by letting him wave us around his head a few times in the belief that he’ll become wealthy!  I don’t even mind those spiders with the tiniest of heads and the amazingly long legs which are no thicker than a strand of hair.  They always strike me as being a bit dim, but quite nice.  It’s those spiders that are either the size of a ten pence piece [and think it’s fun to bite people on the neck whilst they’re sitting minding their own business in a car (but nobody believes me)] or the variety that are so big and hairy you just know they’re menacingly evil and want to pounce on you and eat you all up

[my first memory (nearly a whole lifetime ago) is of an enormous hairy spider under the radiator in the dining room (nobody believes me), and half a lifetime ago a spider – that was as big as my hand – refused to let me leave my bedroom and ran out from under the wardrobe everytime I made for the door (until eventually I was saved from certain you’ll never leave this bedroom again ha ha inevitability by the baby brother, who then told mumsy that i was scared of a piddling tiny spider, so now nobody believes that story either), and then another time i met a magic spider who could teleport itself from the glass it was trapped in … *sigh*]

yummy-yummy in their hairy bloated tummy.

But at least when it was on the ceiling in the corner I knew where it was.  I may not have liked it, but I could keep an eye on it.  Now I shall just be imagining it stealthily creeping up on me, climbing up the back of the settee or running across my bare toes.  And I shan’t be able to enjoy my living room … 

Tsk.  Bloody eight-legged hairy motherf.uckers.

please God stop the spiders coming in my house to gobble me up, ta xxx Elsabeth

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15 comments

  1. I dislike spiders. I can look at them and that’s about it. I have had to do spider removal duty before now and it’s not pleasant. At the same time they fascinate me. How can something so small cause so much fear with millions and how can something so small be able to kill a person, something that’s probably weighs about 10,000 times more!?

  2. What’s all this about spinning a spider over your head giving you money???? That must be an England thing. I don’t like spiders but they don’t scare me nearly as much as they did when I was younger. I suppose I’ve mellowed out or something.

  3. oh man, that would drive me nuts. i used to have a spider who lived in my room, but i was okay with him. i named him george. bigger spiders, i’m not okay with.as for the invasion, if you haven’t seen either of the first two, and you think the commercials look good… yes, you might find it entertaining. so go for it.

  4. Oh! and RYN: If memory serves, we would make a list on a piece of paper to hand out to family members. Since my girls tend to want to shop on line, I make an on line wish list for them. (and yes, I do feel a bit funny about posting them on line, but it is so convenient!)

  5. Spiders. Horrible little buggers. I have two spider stories. The first involves a spider that jumps. I was sitting on the lavatory one day when I noticed it on the wall. It was black spider, about the size of a ten pence coin. It didn’t seem to be moving but nontheless, I didn’t plan on disturbing it. Having finished what I was doing, I carefully edged my way to the opposite side of the room (my toilet sits by itself in it’s own little room) and then reached out to open the door when it jumped ACROSS THE ROOM right at me. I’ve never moved so quick in my life. I did that funny little dance on the landing, sweeping my hands over my body and jumping up and down to make sure the little blighter hadn’t landed on me. He hadn’t, I saw him scurry off under the airing cupboard door. No-one believes that it jumped at me but I know it did! The second story happened in my digs in Cambridge, I’d just come back from my Easter break and I was sitting there watching TV on the floor when this enormous spider the size of my hand came scurrying right past me. I know it was the size of my hand because it was very close to my hand when it passed! It was bloody enormous. I never caught it or had chance to hit it over the head with a rolled up newspaper because after spending a couple of minutes under my bed (and hey, I wasn’t going under there with it) it scarpered down a hole in the wooden floor. I stayed up all night with my paper waiting for it to come out. It never did but who knows where it went?

  6. If you spray your guest with Windex or some other cleaning fluid, he may fall off the ceiling so you can trap him on the floor. It’s mean, but that’s what we do in my house. Heh.

  7. Does it help when you start changing into your pajamas?That sort of gives a hint.With drinks involved, if you serve coffee, it’s a sign the party is over. But with one guest, repeatedly going “Ahh. It’s late. I’m usually asleep at this hour” works.Or be like the guy I dated..go “It’s getting late. When do you need to get up tomorrow?” over and over.too bad Tabitha is not the biting kind like mine. He nips you gently and corrals you like you’re a herd of cow he’s trying to herd into a direction he wants you to go into.You could have used AJ to gently bite your guest to the door!

  8. RYN: I have to say that Ricky Gervais played a character who was annoying in Stardust, but let’s just say he gets what he deserves and isn’t on screen enough to spoil the movie… (In fact, there is quite a humorous exchange between Robert De Niro’s character and his) It isn’t a reason to avoid the movie, I’d say!

  9. lol. All spiders scare me. But that one sounds particularly alarming. ryc: Well you would think but I always doubt…. and he could be faking it… you never know…. and perhaps the look just means “I think your kind of neat at the moment” when for me the look means oh so much more…. *sighs*

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