Last night, ’round about midnight or so, I saw the biggest mother of a spider (big and ugly and brown) crawling down our living room wall. It was crawling towards the floor, possibly over to where I lay on the sofa. I was immobile with fear (very big spider, very big spider) and also, I had several blankets and an infant dog sound asleep on my chest. I attempted to awaken Scott, who was asleep and snoring in his TV-Lounge chair while we watched a highly anticipated new show about Soviet spies, “The Americans.” I was the only one watching, though, because Scott, the bulldog and the terrier puppy were snoring. The big nasty spider was crawling.
Cassie: Scott, Scott, Scott! Quick! Wake Up. There’s a problem. Spider, Spider, Spider!
Cassie: There’s a spider! Get up, get up, get up. Kill that thing! It’s crawling down the wall over there. Quick! It’s getting to the floor! It’s going to get away! We’ll never find it. Oh. My. God. Get it now! Hurry!
I can see that Scott is moving way too slowly. He’s up and standing, but teetering a bit. I hand him a tissue from my handy-dandy Kleenex box which sits on the side table to my right. I can tell that the Big Ass spider is going to outrun my drowsy husband. Not a chance that this situation will be resolved tonight. Nope. I’m so disappointed.
Scott: That fucker’s gone.
Cassie: You didn’t move fast enough, Scott. Come on. This is not good at all.
Scott: Woke me from a sound sleep. I was dead asleep. I can’t go from blissful sleep into kill mode like that, you know.
(Scott looks over at me, empty tissue from the unsuccessful kill scrunched in his hand.)
What you doin’ over there on the couch? All restful, huh?! Why didn’t you kill the freaking thing yourself? You were awake. I was asleep. Can’t get a moment’s peace…
Cassie: I’m cozy. Daffodil Puppy’s sleeping on me. I can’t disturb her. Now because you didn’t get that thing, it’s crawling all around down there. God knows where. Did you see how fast it was moving? Could bite me…or the puppy. This is bad. Really bad.
Scott: It’s not poisonous.
Cassie: Spider bites can be serious, Scott. I’m worried now. Aren’t you worried? Not protecting the family from spiders. I’m definitely not going to be able to concentrate on the show now.
Scott: Shhh….Besides you are completely covered from head to toe in cloth…and blankets…and puppy. There’s no…there’s no skin visible for the spider to bite. I’m wide awake now. Yep. Heart is pumping.
Cassie: Good. Then you can keep watch when that nasty thing comes out from the other side of the couch. You’re still looking for it. Right? (Pause.) Are you looking?
Scott: (shooting me a severe look) Cassie, be quiet. Or, go to bed.
I’m envisioning how the spider has probably made its way from the far wall where the television is stationed, across the wooden floor to the dark area underneath the couch. I’m quite sure it’s behind me now. I’ll have to strain my neck, turning to look behind me every few seconds, to see if the spider is where I think it is. Puppy stirs and stretches, all four legs poking at the air for a moment, before shifting again into a curled ball, her small snout tucked into my neck. And because puppy’s whiskers are tickling my neck with each inhale and exhale of her breath, I’m pretty sure I can feel a spider crawling on my head. Slowly, I get up and put the puppy into her crate for the night, keeping a careful eye on the floor beneath my feet for scuttling spiders. I start to head toward our bedroom, which is off the living room and dining room areas.
Scott: (rousing slightly, for he’d quickly fallen back asleep after returning to his lounge chair) Where you going? You’re not watching the show?
Cassie: I can’t be in this room another second longer. I feel spiders, large ones, crawling all over me. I’m very tense. And I’m mad that you didn’t kill it. That spider will make babies. We’ll be overrun.
I walk out of the living room but hear Scott mumble, “Stupid ass spider.”