Today I am feeling better, thanks to the miracle antibiotic I was prescribed yesterday. When I think how much I didn't want to take another antibiotic, I shake my head. Clearly I needed one. It wasn't just a virus.
But taking care of two-year-old twins when one is recovering from a bug is a little harder than when one actually has the bug (this bug, anyway). Instead of dreaming through the day, I was awake and aware throughout, and the babies seemed to be conscious of this and were consequently more trouble.
Still, I cannot blame them for the trouble I got myself into with the first spider this morning. We were just back from the park and library, and had gotten out of the car, when my eyes lit on a spider web at the southeast corner of the garage. It had gone from being a few stringy strands to a big thick horizontal web. And somehow that made me mad. How dare a spider make such a big web in my garage? There was no spider visible in it, so without thinking this through, I stuck my foot in it and pulled the whole thing down. I was pleased with myself for about 2 seconds, after which I noticed the big black spider right next to my foot.
Black widows often make themselves a little hiding place within their web -- it looks like just a thicker part of the web. Clearly this one had just popped out of its hiding place.
Black widows only bite when threatened. This one was threatened.
I completely lost it, started screaming and rubbing my foot back and forth on the concrete, then ran over to the grass and started rubbing my foot back and forth as I ran back and forth across the grass. I didn't feel anything on my leg, ever. Finally I looked down, saw nothing, dared to look at the bottom of my shoes, saw nothing, and went shakily back to tell the boos everything was fine.
The fact that I was wearing shoes and socks, not sandals, may have saved me -- except that if I'd been wearing sandals I never would have pulled down a black widow's web WITH MY FRIGGIN' FOOT.
A few hours later, the twins were getting restless, so I suggested they play with "Table Why" (their water table). They were delighted and we got it all set up with fresh water and toys. After they had been playing for 15 minutes or so I realized it was snacktime, so I fixed them each a snack bowl with some Fig Newtons and goldfish crackers and brought them out to them.
A few minutes later I realized my mistake.
Have I never given them a snack while they were playing with the water table? Surely I have, surely. But maybe not. Anyway, today the boos decided to do a science experiment involving Fig Newtons, goldfish crackers, and the water table. Oh, so gross. "Do Not Put Snacks in Table Why!" I shouted, going to get the hose. I had to take out all the toys, hose them off, dump out all the water, hose off the water table, and then leave it in the sun to dry.
Boos were more intrigued than upset, and afterwards told me seriously "No bar wa'er" and "No kacker wa'er." I agreed. "Kayak wa'er." I agreed.
But I was mad, because an activity that could have lasted an hour had lasted 15 minutes. I decided rather than take my anger out on the boos, I would take it out on the spiders that live on the patio. So I began spraying all the various webs with the hose (everything on the patio has a web).
A few weeks ago I had finally gotten brave enough to use the spider-killing spray on the black widow that had a web just to the east of the patio door. It upset me very much to use it, especially since she was positively writhing in agony, but I was glad she did finally die. But then a week or so ago I was dismayed to find two new black widows -- younger, smaller, but definitely widows -- happily ensconced on either side of the patio door.
So I sprayed their webs with all the strength in the hose. And down came the new widow to the east (the hiding place for that web is in a patio chair that hangs above the web) to see who was messing with her web. I turned the water on her full force, sprayed her and sprayed her and sprayed her. Finally I calmed down and shut the water off. She shook herself off and walked happily around the corner.
Later, when we were out in front again, waiting for Daddy to come home with the pizza, I checked on the web by the front door. I had sprayed that widow dead only a few days ago. Her body was still lying there, still dead, and there was another dead spider there too, who must have gotten caught in the fumes. He was black but with an interesting red and white pattern on his body. I studied him, sorry he'd had to die.
If spiders have any sort of system of revenge, I am so screwed.
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