OK, full disclosure: this has nothing to do with ADHD, Professional Organizing, running the PTO, or any of my other many interests. It’s simply about spiders; and I hate them. And since it’s Halloween, I feel like venting. They’re everywhere. And they’re huge. And they have way too many legs.
On the other hand, I like to watch Arachnophobia in the dark, and photograph their webs coated with Autumn dew, and study their mating rituals on Animal Planet. Many years ago, like twenty or so, my family developed an affinity for scaring the living sh– out of each other. And a well-placed rubber spider always delivered. It started when I was living at home with my folks in a great, big, early 1900’s house. There were creaky stairs and creepy rooms, and every corner was an open invitation for a good scare. We’d hide behind doors and place props in the dumbwaiter and take full advantage of the dank, dark basement. We screamed like schoolgirls and planned our revenge.
Then came my marriage, and the sickness lived on. Plastic lizards in a shoe was good for a jump, but once he put an army-clad mannequin head on top of the dryer. It scared the crap out of me when I opened the closet door, and then POW! He got me. Another one IN the dryer!
We swore off scaring for years when we had unsecured guns in the house. Then we had kids, locked up the weapons, and the scare tactics resurfaced.
Now, our two kids are in on the act. And no one is safe. There are certain assumptions you make in your own home. Like there are no tarantulas in your sheets, snakes in your cereal, or ghosts in the closet. Not in my house. And it has nothing to do with Halloween. We’ve gone absolutely crazy with scaring each other. We take every possible opportunity to lurk in the dark, catch someone unawares, or grab an ankle from beneath a bed.
We scream, we swear, we lash out physically. The louder the scream, the harder we laugh. We love it. We hate it. We’re all into it.
Happy Halloween everyone. And beware, there are scares around every corner!