Hate is a strong word

I HATE SPIDERS!!  I don’t use the word hate very often, because it’s a very emotional word in my opinion.  But when it comes to spiders, I can’t think of a better word.  I despise them.  My childhood is filled with very vivid memories of spider incidents, none of them ending well.  These included the spiders that used to live in the tub and pretend to be dead, but would pump themselves up and walk away after a few minutes.  Then there was the time we were picking mushrooms in Michigan, and I picked a big one that had a huge spider living inside of it.  Then there was the enormous tree spider that had to be killed with a hammer outside of our house in Charleston.  I touched it with my hand thinking it was bark…and then it moved.  I can still feel it on my hand when I think about it.  And then in high school I was bit by a spider, and the doctor told me in could be living in my mattress.  You’d better believe my parents bought me new mattresses that day!  And there are a handful of other stories, traumatizing moments in my life involving spiders.  When James was deployed, there was a spider on our ceiling in the bedroom.  I slept in the living room for three weeks.  That’s just how it is with me and spiders.

Last weekend, James and I spent a nice day at the Bazaar in Yokosuka, a few horrible hours stuck in traffic, and we came home to a monster spider outside of our door.  James didn’t believe me that it was a spider, but I can spot them from a mile away, in the dark.  He tried to kill it, but it was on the ceiling outside, and in the dark, it was difficult.  I didn’t sleep that night.  I kept thinking of that evil thing living outside of our door.  I couldn’t wait for the moment when I was sure it was dead.  The attack was easier in the day light, though it still proved to be trying.  James used a whole can of bug killer, while I stayed behind the screen door screeching and watching with anticipation. After James had sprayed a ton of killer on it, I got up the courage to walk outside and take a picture. (Honestly, I'm not even sure why I wanted a picture...)  I figured that even if the spider came after us, he was covered in poison, so he couldn’t come that fast.  James kept telling me he was dead, but then he would keep moving, and I wanted confirmation that it was over.  He sat on the wall clinging to life, when all of a sudden he made a run at us.  I started screaming and ran to the grass, and James was spraying him with what was left in the can.  James was yelling at me to get him something to squish it with, but that would involve me walking towards the spider to get to the house, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  Thankfully, our neighbor came to the rescue with his tennis shoes.  And the spider was squished for good.  The incident gave my heart a good test, but I can sleep well knowing he is dead.