I don't like Spiders or Snakes. . .

This morning, as I began to wash my hair in the shower, I felt some kind of unusual foreign body amongst the strands of hair. I coaxed it to the end of the hair and kept a stream of water concentrated on whatever it was. As it dropped and I attempted to wash it down the drain, I ascertained it might have been a spider. I wasn't wearing glasses, so I am not certain. . . yet    Eeeeeewwwwwwwhhhhhhh!

What is one of those horrid creatures doing in my hair and when did it gain access? During my sleep? I shudder to think. Now I will be afraid to go to bed until I have spider-sprayed the headboard and any other access to my pillow.

Now mind you, I'd like to think I have a spider/insect/anykindofpest-free home. Any intruder that manages to make its way in and show itself is immediately banished with spray, swatter and/or vacuum. I tend to either vacuum it up and spray/suck insect spray in after it, in case it dares to think it can crawl back up, or flush it down the toilet, with a bit of soap to make sure it doesn't revive anywhere along its way.

So to think I may have had one crawling around for who knows how long before I got up, makes me shiver and shudder in a creepy-crawly sort of way. brrrrr

Which reminds me of a similar incident which happened in Relief Society (our Women Meeting in Church) on Sunday. As I sat in class, 4th row back, it was brought to my attention that a spider was making its way up and down an invisible web. We watched with horror, in a Tom Sawyer-like setting, wondering how to kill it without freaking the women below it and disrupting class. Well, the disruption was Tom Sawyer-esque, but that is as far as the similarity goes. Ours was horror rather than fascination.

The teacher realized that our undivided attention was no longer on her, and she ascertained the situation. In mid-sentence, she stated that a spider had upstaged her. Upon following her gaze, the "Suzy Derkins"* below it immediately scurried to the other end of the row, and not a moment too soon as the spider fell to the back of the just-vacated chair in front of us.

Some brave, yet obviously "Mom of the Year" calmly pinched it between a folded Kleenex and properly disposed of it. And the lesson proceeded without further incident.

 *This is Suzy

Calvin never ceases to make me giggle.

It reminds me of my old nemesis Phil. As I grew up, I had a Calvin who lived next door to me. And I was definitely Suzy. His name was Phil Pierce. I nicknamed him "Phierce-O Pierce-O", and he hated me for it. We had a love/hate relationship for all 6 grades I spent in that grade school. Because he was my neighbor way out in the country, and we would sometimes both get really desperate and play together, but mostly he wanted to play "Bomb The Enemy" with his plastic soldiers and large pillows,  and I wanted to play Barbies. We really didn't mesh too well.

In school, during recess, he and his buddies would "fly over" with bombs of dirt and decimate our little rock villages we girls had carefully honed into the roots of the old cottonwood tree.

Once on a winter day, I went too far and called him "Phierce-O Pierce-O" one last time after he threatened to give me a white-wash, and he tackled me, rubbing snow in my face. As he bravely marched on into the school room when the bell rang, I picked myself up and began to cry.

The "love" part of this relationship happened when we first met. We both had older siblings, my sister Janet and his brother Jack used to sit on the porch, hold hands and kiss. They were only in 5th grade, but thought they were so grown up. So one day, Phil coaxed me behind a tree and once there, he gave me a big kiss on the lips and ran away. I stood there totally shocked, then ran after him. My first kiss. And before first grade, no less. I guess the "hate" began because he must have regretted it and apparently spent the rest of his grade school career making up for his blunder. Who knows? 

I totally get this comic strip, because I am definitely Suzy and he was definitely Calvin.

ahhhhh memories.

what are some of your memories?

~a