Hot Flashes - A Leggy Situation

By Sue Langenberg

There is a saying that you are never more than three feet away from a spider.  If I had never heard that, I might be sleeping better for the rest of my life.

As ignorance is bliss, I must have been happy-go-lucky before that spider warning to think that I could simply put clean, airy sheets and fresh pillow cases on my bed and fall asleep.  Sweet dreams with no spiders staring at me.  And that my house was leg-free with no sneaky roommates that wait for me to sleep and have their way with the walls and corners.

But now I am thinking that the room might have 84 legs waiting to attack old hags wearing 100 percent cotton.  Oops, according to my calculator, that includes a half spider.  OK, so 88 legs.

So now, I am thrust into a situation where I am always on guard for those creepy legs nearby.  I am told that we only see females because she destroys the male after mating, thereby eliminating the expensive and drawn out divorce proceedings once the male messes up the web with his eight smelly socks.

Or maybe her mate has a wandering eye for the neighboring web where the female has shapelier legs and moves with svelte grace in a ballet tutu.  I don’t know, do spiders have eye lashes?  And if they socially dance, how many left feet are there?

So I was minding my own business with my crossword puzzle before me the other night.  This follows a day when I tackled a few things in the basement and swept down some cobwebs in the process.  I knew that my basement had a few webs here and there, but I thought that they all lived in marital bliss, or murderous mating, in the basement.  I made a pact; you keep your legs down there and I’ll keep my legs up here.  Ne’er the twain shall meet. 

Staring at my puzzle, I couldn’t help but notice out of the corner of my eye a fat spider making its way across the room toward me.  What caught my attention is that she was wearing eight mesh stockings in loud colors and designer stiletto heels.  She was also hefty and mad looking. 

She was not heading for the kitchen, or a dark corner or a nice dank basement via furnace outlet.  She was heading for me and in a hurry!  I’m sure that she had had a bad day what with a recognizable hag who came along to destroy her happy home.  She had just killed her mate for leaving his clumpy shoes around.  Murder is pretty stressful, after all, to a feminine spider trying to be a single parent to family of eggs.

At that moment of ambush, I wondered where my attack-anything-that-moves cat was.  His name is “Tripod,” with only three legs.  No shoes, no fancy pants, just three legs poised for action.  He is by no means handicapped, but has a habit of napping when I need him the most.

So my only defense at that moment was my own two legs wearing sweat pants and a crossword puzzle weapon.  Me against her; she goes.  Thwap!  Gone were the mesh tights in neon colors and stiletto high heels.

By the time I recovered my presence of mind and found a new puzzle without road kill, I determined that I probably need to assess the spider situation.  It is too many legs to suit my taste.  Now, my next worry is if I destroy all these happy and murderous homes in the basement, they will all come after me at once.

Can you relate? If you would like to comment on Hot Flashes, Sue can be reached via E-mail at thewritehag@yahoo.com, or pa@pacc-news.com.

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