Spider Woman

I HATE SPIDERS.

Hate them. Hate hate hate them. Always have. Always will. So when I discovered an army of black widows in our new backyard, I was ready to move out of our dream home. For a second.

Then I waged war.

My "war" was an exercise in futility. I am completely and utterly petrified of spiders and refuse to get anywhere near them. So I tried to drown them with my sprinklers and hose. No dice. Tried spider killing spray. Nada. Spider traps. They danced on them and laughed. I read about them voraciously, biting my nails to the quick in fear just like I used to when I'd read R.L. Stein novels with my pink flashlight under my She-Ra blanket as a kid. I learned to identify their webs, uneven gauzy-looking strands down low, at prime ankle biting level. I took another look around my yard and realized just how many of them could be lurking in the shadows. All of my research led to the same solution. Good ol' fashioned smooshing 'em.

Which means I have to get close to them.

But I will not let the heart pounding terror get the best of me! And I refuse to share pool parties with these husband-killing bitches. 

So a couple times a week, I venture into the yard, covered head to toe with thick sweats and in tennis shoes (one of the rare occassions I will break my sandal habit). In one hand, a can of Raid foaming spider killer. In the other, a yard-long, two-in-thick stick.

I turn on the sprinklers, which will usually force at least one of the dreaded arachnids to scurry into sight. From as far away as possible, I spray the sucker with the Raid. It's the only kind that works. And by "works" I mean stuns and freezes the black widow for about three whole seconds. I spray the murderess for a solid 10 seconds, until she's good and coated in the freeze foam. Then I smoosh her with the end of my stick. This usually takes at least three attempts because:  A) I have crap vision. B) I have crap aim. And C) I'm shaking and squealing and jumping around like a scared little girl.

Depending on how long that took, I may attempt another.

But usually I just get gangster on it, leaving the body as a message to all her dirty little friends.