Sunday, August 15, 2010

The dangerous side of house cleaning

Dear Tess,

Here's an example of why it's good you moved.


We're having company over today. As such, I decided that it was far past time that I actually clean the house rather than the lame-ass approach I take each week which mainly involves vacuuming some areas and doing some laundry and then bragging about how I cleaned the whole house to Jamie.


First, I cleaned his bathroom. I do not go into his bathroom because it's a generally scary man-space which is hostile to girls. In the process of cleaning his bathroom, I used almost all of the cleaning products, of which we have an alarming amount given that I don't clean. Perhaps I'm thinking if I have enough unused products, they'll clean for me in the middle of the night like little brownies. (Note: brownies in this case = sturdy little fairies, but now all I can think about are moist, chocolaty brownies running around my house with a spray bottle of 409).


After, like 20 hours cleaning the bathroom, I headed down stairs and started in the kitchen. This is where I noticed that there was a prehistoric wall of spiderweb stretched across my kitchen window. While I lied and told myself that this had just been created that morning because how could I have missed such a thing, I'm pretty sure this existed when the house was built in the 50's. It was ghastly. It was horrifying. It needed to go.


First, I opened the window next to it to break up any connections between the two windows. No connection. The web remained.


Then I turned on the water faucet full blast, picked up the little sink sprayer thingy and, emboldened by the screen between me and the evil web of misery and death, started spraying.


This was a mistake.


As soon as I started to spray, the biggest most nasty looking beast of a spider jumped up and he went for my face. I know I always think the spider will go for my face if I bug it. I know this is irrational and stupid, but I assure you, he was coming for me. He was coming for me with rage and anger not unlike the way I reacted when some stupid ho stole my Zappos deliver when we lived in the city. THAT kind of rage and anger.


I didn't really think Spiders could move like this. He was jumping around manically, his thousand legs were twirling and jerking and spazing and his fangs were dripping Gretchen-killing venom. Reflecting on his movements and facial expression, I concluded that not only is he a mean spider, he's a psychotic spider. And I pissed him off by destroying his family domicile. Or he had nap hangover.

Luckily, the screen saved my life, preventing this cranky, mal-adjusted, in need of strong medication, a good psychiatrist, and some cookies from eating my face.

But he's out there.

And he's holding a grudge (because what else will he do without cable?)

So, now I can't go out on that side of the house for at least a month.


I"m not sure he hasn't found a way inside and is raising an army of my indoor spiders to attack me in the night. I think he'll also be accessing my email accounts, cross referencing with whitepages.com, and hunting down all of my friends. Therefore, you're safe. I'm pretty sure psychotic spider won't make it through security at the airport.


Oh, and he kind of looked like this. But bigger. And meaner. And a crazier. Which is another reason why I've decided not to join the military.

No comments:

Post a Comment