The Terrifying Tarantula

I am terrified of spiders!  My husband just laughs at me and rolls his eyes. 

Normally, I am actually pretty rational and responsible and clear thinking. I have routinely handled vomit, broken bones, and lots and lots of blood. But when it comes to spiders, some deeply seated fear takes over and I become completely irrational. 

That really is a problem living where we live. We just happen to have a very large population of tarantulas, brown recluse, and black widows. Oh goody!

For years, especially while the kids were little, I was concerned about having an exterminator come. I know it is supposed to be fine, but I just didn't want someone to come back years later and decide that it was actually dangerous. Seems like that happens often.

I was finally pushed over the edge one night when, while laying in bed, a brown recluse ran down my arm! Instinctively I grabbed it and flung it across the room, then jumped up and found its crumpled body. 

I felt no remorse. None. 

Instead, I felt rage! Instantly I was a new convert to the principle of maintaining a strict regimen of pest control administered by a trained professional. I reasoned that the "completely safe residue" left by the exterminator had to be safer than the distinct possibility that my children would be overrun by brown recluse spiders as they slept peacefully in their beds.

I had reached the point of no return.

Having put the situation in perspective, you will now understand more fully the situation that arose on another memorable night.


My husband and children have a really odd affliction. They like snakes.  Since you can't really hunt for deer or normal things in west Texas, they like to go hunt snakes! They catch them and keep them! Can you imagine? I won't even discuss at this point how I feel about snakes. That will be saved for another day.

On the night under discussion, I was sucked into the snake hunting vortex. They used the guilt thing on me. "Oh Mom, please come with us! It will be so fun! You don't have to hold or touch anything! You may actually realize that you like it. Oh PLEASE! We want you to come with us!" Followed by lots of puppy dog eyes.

I am not a rookie, but I fell for it anyway. Hook, line and sinker. Did they really just want me along or did they know how fun it would be to watch me running and screaming hysterically down a dark highway in the middle of nowhere? 

For their snake hunting extravaganzas, they would leave home sometime after dinner and drive a couple of hours to a "good spot", which meant it was 30 or 40 miles from the nearest source of electricity, let alone plumbing. We're talkin' a thousand miles from the middle of NOWHERE, in the middle of the night!!


Do you know how many creatures there are along a seemingly uninhabitable stretch of remote highway? Do you understand how terrifying many of them are? NONE of them are friendly, trust me! They were NOT happy about our visit.


Well, I decided the safest place for me was right beside the van, just in case I needed to make a hasty retreat. I was standing there as they walked up and down the sides of the roads with flashlights. At one point, they actually walked out of sight! I was standing there, alone. Now I do have to admit the stars were spectacular.


But what happened next made me forget all about the beauty of the stars.


They came back with an enormous tarantula!!!! Just when you think a spider isn't horrifying enough, add fur and they become exponentially more terrifying! 


I couldn't believe they actually wanted to keep it! Are they nuts??


Since the snakes weren't out, Kregg decided it was time to start home. That part was fine. The part that wasn't fine was the part about taking the "thing" home with us. I was trying not to hyperventilate. But then they start the "Oh Mom, it's so cool!" stuff and what am I supposed to do?


I dutifully climbed behind the wheel of the van to start our homeward trip. Filled to overflowing with adrenaline, I was the obvious candidate to drive because I was WIDE awake! They put the "thing" in one of those clear plastic shoe boxes. They just happen to carry several of them around for their captives. They set "It" on the floor behind my seat. 

Fifteen minutes into the drive, they are all sound asleep. I, however, am gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles thinking about "It."


As I am driving along, my imagination begins to run away with me:
What if someone bumped the box and the lid came lose?
What if they didn't really get the lid on all the way?
What if "It" was already lose and climbing up the back of the driver's seat, planning to jump on my head?


Then I started imagining something crawling on me!

That's it!!! I couldn't take it! I had to know where "It" was!


While driving down the highway, I carefully reached behind my seat and picked up the box, which in itself gave me several new gray hairs. 


"It" was still in there! All eight hairy legs!!


What now? I certainly couldn't hold "It" the whole time. I was already driving somewhat erratically. So, I put the box on the dash RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. At least now, I knew where "It" was the whole time! And so for the remainder of the two hours home, the thing crawled around inside that box while I held my breath, expecting it to jump out and attack me at any moment!


Needless to say, I had no trouble staying awake! 


You would think they would have sympathy on me, knowing how that experience scarred me. But, NO! One of the boys' favorite things to do is bring a tarantula in the house in one of those orange five gallon buckets and say, "Mom, look what we just caught!"


That's just mean!!