RAID
I was sleeping a wonderfully peaceful slumber when my bedroom door opened and PuppyDogsAndBows tentatively called out, "Granola. Granola."
"What?" I groggily grumbled as I glanced at the clock. 2 freaking o'clock in the morning. This had better be a matter of life and death or Police action. Frankly, I didn't care which.
"I need you to kill a spider. Please." What do I look like? The Orkin Man?? In her defense, we made an agreement the first day we moved in together. That agreement goes thusly: they don't scream and in return I will kill any bug, spider, random living that that makes its way into our house. I don't mind killing things, I do mind, however, screaming. It seems like a very fair trade-off to me. My roommates all seem to agree, since I haven't heard screaming and I have had to kill a variety of spiders. With this in mind, I got up and followed her to her room.
"Where is it?"
"Some where in that pile of shoes. I don't know where." It should be mentioned that she has about a billion shoes. Where by "billion" I mean approximately 30-40 pairs, and every shoe was in this pile on her floor. I sat down and commenced the super-fun process of picking up every shoe, shaking it out, and moving it into a new pile. When I was about half finished she started hyperventilating. "It's on the wall behind you!"
I turned and sure enough, there was a fairly large spider (about the size of a penny) crawling up the wall behind me. I grabbed the RAID and started spraying. The stupid bugger kept crawling up the wall. Then I picked up the toilet tissue I had brought for the event and attempted to squash him. When I picked up the paper he was not only alive he was trying to get away. Eventually I squashed him and flushed him down the toilet.
After the deed was done (and my hands washed) I headed back to my waiting bed. "Are you sure it's dead?"
"Yeah. His guts were evidence that he was pretty much dead."
Note to self, don't mention that spiders have guts. Why? you ask. Simple. Right after I said this she started jumping around, "Ewwweee! It was big enough to have guts!? Spiders have guts?" I had to remind her that the people who live in the basement apartment sleep right under where she was jumping. "Will you put me to bed?" You have got to be kidding me?
"Sure."
We went to her room, where I had to check her bed sheets, under her bed, and generally around her room. Thankfully, she didn't ask me to read her a bed-time story. I don't think I could have kept a straight face.
"What?" I groggily grumbled as I glanced at the clock. 2 freaking o'clock in the morning. This had better be a matter of life and death or Police action. Frankly, I didn't care which.
"I need you to kill a spider. Please." What do I look like? The Orkin Man?? In her defense, we made an agreement the first day we moved in together. That agreement goes thusly: they don't scream and in return I will kill any bug, spider, random living that that makes its way into our house. I don't mind killing things, I do mind, however, screaming. It seems like a very fair trade-off to me. My roommates all seem to agree, since I haven't heard screaming and I have had to kill a variety of spiders. With this in mind, I got up and followed her to her room.
"Where is it?"
"Some where in that pile of shoes. I don't know where." It should be mentioned that she has about a billion shoes. Where by "billion" I mean approximately 30-40 pairs, and every shoe was in this pile on her floor. I sat down and commenced the super-fun process of picking up every shoe, shaking it out, and moving it into a new pile. When I was about half finished she started hyperventilating. "It's on the wall behind you!"
I turned and sure enough, there was a fairly large spider (about the size of a penny) crawling up the wall behind me. I grabbed the RAID and started spraying. The stupid bugger kept crawling up the wall. Then I picked up the toilet tissue I had brought for the event and attempted to squash him. When I picked up the paper he was not only alive he was trying to get away. Eventually I squashed him and flushed him down the toilet.
After the deed was done (and my hands washed) I headed back to my waiting bed. "Are you sure it's dead?"
"Yeah. His guts were evidence that he was pretty much dead."
Note to self, don't mention that spiders have guts. Why? you ask. Simple. Right after I said this she started jumping around, "Ewwweee! It was big enough to have guts!? Spiders have guts?" I had to remind her that the people who live in the basement apartment sleep right under where she was jumping. "Will you put me to bed?" You have got to be kidding me?
"Sure."
We went to her room, where I had to check her bed sheets, under her bed, and generally around her room. Thankfully, she didn't ask me to read her a bed-time story. I don't think I could have kept a straight face.
posted by granola girl at 8:23 am
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