Topic: Weirdness
I sometimes wonder why God granted me the gift of a boy. And not just one boy. TWO boys. I am not an outside person. I don't like the smell of outside, I don't like the smell of freshly mowed grass, I would prefer that both children and Bubba take a shower after entering the house from playing outside. I know. . .I can dream and wish right??
And one can deduce that if I do not enjoy the grandeurs of the natural world, that I don't particularly care for the "things" living in it. You would be correct. I don't like bugs. AT. ALL. In fact, spiders are my least favorite. I actually have panic attacks with spiders. It's super awful!
But last night, I was to help my brother-in-law, Jason the muralist, with his new website (only to be seen at www.MemoliArtS.com!). My sister turned this into a family cook-out. Ok. . .no problem. Throw some lettuce in a bowl, corn in a pan and some meat on the grill. Eat, continue with the plan of website building. Well. . .I'm not sure where we went wrong, but the meat took a lot longer than expected. Because of this delay, my busy work that was to be my tether to the kitchen indoors, was finished. I was forced outside into nature.
Within one minute of going outdoors, I was bit by a mosquito. TWICE. I then ducked back in only to have my mom banging on the window motioning me out there again. I grabbed a dryer sheet, shoved it in my back pocket and away I went. (Yes, one of my crunchy friends told me of this trick and it worked like a CHARM!!!) I sat down in the chair next to dad.
As we sit there talking, me jittery with the creepy-crawly feelings of mother nature, I had an itch. That itch moved. That itch was in my shirt. To be more precise, that itch was in my shirt by the girls. I look down, but see nothing. I open the top of my shirt a bit and there, perched between my breasts is a spider. I could have ripped both shirts off and started screaming, but, by the grace of God, I held onto my calmness. I reached down, grabbed that tiny eight-legged varmint, and threw him to the grass. Yes, he was tiny, not something to have mega-nightmares about, but still, he was a spider, I touched him and he was apparently a boob man.
After my breathing resumed, then the panic hit. I thought my mom was going to have a heart-attack. She said the look on my face was priceless. Well, I don't care, I made it through, calmed myself down. I think had the spider been anywhere else, I would have asked for help. But I don't think my dad would have been comfortable with me asking him to reach down my shirt to flick a spider out. That would just be sick!!
Moral of the story: don't wear a low-cut shirt if you are afraid of spiders.
Piper's moral of the story: don't go outside.
