Fandango has given us Commotion as our daily word prompt this time:
I make no secret of the fact that I do not like spiders, though I am not as bad as I was and allowed a money spider to walk across my screen a little while ago. I’ve also had a pair of small bodied leggy creatures on the bedroom ceiling for the past two nights. OK, I’ll ‘fess up, Hubby got rid of them yesterday because they were walking across the wall just above my pillow.
I hate the big garden spiders, the ones with hairier legs than Ernie Wise, the ones where you can see the joints from 5 feet.
So what has all this got to do with Commotion you ask.
When we lived in the council house, my Grandfather lived with us, so should Mum and Dad wish to go out to the pictures (they were not pubbers) or visit friends in the evening, us kids wouldn’t be left on our own.
This particular evening I went downstairs and told Grandad there was a big spider in my room and could he come and get rid of it please.
He dutifully came upstairs, but the hairy beast was nowhere to be seen, so he tucked me in, kissed me on the forehead and went back downstairs.
Less than ten minutes later, all hell let loose upstairs, and he came rushing up to see what all the commotion was about. I was throwing things at the wall, but the arachnid disappeared into the cupboard. Give Grandad his due, he had everything out looking for it to dispose of. No luck.
He was beginning to think I was making it all up because I didn’t want to go to sleep yet when he saw it legging it up the wall. It was huge, so he went downstairs to get a mat and a glass.
He came back with a sherry glass and a coaster, both perfectly adequate to catch it and take it outside. Well to a six year old, a one inch spider was one inch too many in size!