It's taken me a couple of days to calm down enough to share this story. But now that I know there is a happy ending and everyone is safe, I can go ahead and talk about it.
My daughter called me Saturday night. I could hear terror in her voice from the very start. "Mommy, there's a giant spider in my room." Without giving it any thought, I immediately answered, "Then I won't ever be visiting you again." (I am not ashamed to admit that I am terrified of spiders.)
My daughter persisted. "It's really, really big and ugly. Do something!"
Now, first of all, all three of my children have been raised with the express purpose of killing any and all spiders for me. (Truly, I'm phobic.) Second, she is in NYC and I'm in southern Florida -- way too far away to be of any use, even if I wasn't planning to run even further away from the spider. So I did the only thing I could: whined at her to kill it quickly.
Maybe I shouldn't admit that I was already hyperventilating at the thought of this spider. I mean, she's had to deal with spiders for me all her life. She's used to them. So if this one scared her, it must have been especially scary. She probably would have been better calling her brother or sister. Or even her grandmother.
But it was my little girl, calling me for help. So as I gasped for breath, I decided to put my big girl panties on and be the mom she needed me to be. I offered her the only advice I could, based on my past experiences.
Oven cleaner.
Don't laugh, it works. And it can be sprayed from a distance, which is mandatory if there isn't anyone else around.
My only other offering was to move out of the apartment and find a house without spiders -- something I have also been known to do in the past.
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