I’m sharing this story again that ties into my review of Dawn’s book from my prior post. I hope you enjoy again if you’ve already read it. And if you’re reading for the first time, I hope it brings a smile or makes you laugh. 😁

Dad saved my life when I was a little girl! He was my hero, and the unforgettable episode took place when my parents, sisters, and I were at our cabin for a weekend getaway in Big Bear, California. Sugar pines surrounded our little bungalow on the big corner lot in the mountains. We had just finished Mom’s delicious lasagna dinner, and everyone was relaxing in their own way for the rest of the evening. With crayons, I was bringing to life a picture in my coloring book, sitting on our coffee-colored sofa by our stone fireplace, and that’s when Dad noticed the spider on the cushion heading for me at lightning speed. He caught it just before it began the climb onto my leg. In those days, any spider who found itself inside our home didn’t live to see the sunrise the next morning. This moment was traumatic for me, so spiders have been the bane of my existence ever since. Even in my teen years, spiders seemed to follow my every move!
These wee beasts spent much of their time in my bathroom with the sky-blue walls and plush soft matching rugs. Never did they tour my parent’s bathroom. My mind drifts to the morning when I was about to take a shower, getting ready for another day of high school…as I turned the knob and looked up, I watched a spider ride the waves of the cascading waterfall down, down, down. I jerked my head back just in time, and I cringed thinking of that eight-legged creature tangled up in my long brown hair.
Mornings began to fuel anxiety as spider social calls manifested soon after the crack of dawn. The sun brightened the sky and another high school day was on the horizon. I grabbed a towel to dry off after showering when I felt something unnatural. Looking down, I watched in horror as a brown spider scuttled across my chest. I jumped, avoiding a nasty fall in the tub, and brushed the spider off not caring where it landed. I just wanted it off my skin!
I think these creepy-crawlies watched for me so they could plan their next prank. During another shower with my head full of shampoo suds, I spotted a black spider near my feet. The routine my feet performed was not one of a happy dance! With a swish here and there, my foot managed to nudge the scary intruder down the drain with ripples of water. I imagined it whirling into the dark depth of the water system. I quickly rinsed the suds out. Just as I felt calm run through my body, I looked down and noticed that spider climbing out of the drain! This could only happen to me!
I’m not afraid of fangs digging into me. Fear rears its ugly head when they appear out of the blue, startling me out of my wits! Any hope of building armor is hopeless. And they have too many legs; this, combined with their sudden movements of jumping or crawling at high-speed, send me into a tizzy, as my dad used to say. Also, spiders are not pretty. Not to me. The visual doesn’t compare to the beauty of a butterfly. In fact, their creepy appearance propels me into a panic as much as their sudden company!
Even after five decades, I haven’t been able to shake my skittish reactions. Even though I’m a giant compared to the spider, with any fear, the source becomes magnified. So, I’ve diagnosed myself with arachnophobia. And the tale continues…
One incident took place later in life. I’m now a wife and mom with two young children. On an evening like any other while my family was getting ready for bed, I walked through the house locking up. I turned the lights out in the living room, but noticed a dark spot the size of my palm on the carpet. I almost – almost – reached down to touch it, but a bell went off in my subconscious warning me not to. I turned on the light and staring back at me was a black hairy tarantula!
“Oh, Shit!” I screamed, backing up slowly.
“Uh, oh! A spider found mom!” My husband, Matt, said to our daughter and son, who thankfully, didn’t share my fear. But he silently questioned the kind of spider that would cause me to shriek. This scenario sounded different.
After I managed to widen the space between the tarantula and me, my feet felt like cement blocks. Fear crept into my veins like a drug. I had never seen a tarantula up close, although I was thankful it stayed put. It didn’t budge. It was not afraid of me. What a fiasco if the tarantula had run! If it had, I would’ve run too! Heebie-jeebies creep up my arms imagining the leggy intruder finding comfort beneath the sofas (that I would never sit on again!).
Matt was taken back when he joined me in the living room and was surprised that I hadn’t passed out! My daughter had instituted the trend of saving spiders with a glass and a paper plate. So, by grabbing those two items, Matt scooped up the uninvited guest while I held the door. Per my request, he walked far enough away from the house before setting the big guy free in the yard. No tarantula was killed in the telling of this event. Our front door had been open earlier in the evening with the screen door closed. Spiders can maneuver through any cracks, but how that tarantula the size of my palm squeezed through baffles me to this day!
A few weeks after Matt had introduced “Harry” to his outdoor residence, my phobia eventually quieted down. Until recently when I sat at the kitchen table typing on my laptop. I noticed a spider crawling over the top of the screen. You have got to be kidding me! It was the color of vanilla and appeared like out of a horror flick, magnified by the white backdrop, growing to an enormous size – my skewed perception! Each leg made its way over the top! Since Matt was home, I yelled for his help. He grabbed the spider-saving tools but was too slow for the speedy spider who was off to the races! So, Matt lobbed the glass to me like we had teamed up for an egg toss! “Oh no, I missed him, too!”
“Hon, it’s just a spider,”Matt said with a smile and a pinch of courage. He knew Harry’s ugly image had been engrained in my mind, and no matter how much effort I exerted, it was stuck there forever. So, I couldn’t believe my ears, just a spider, but I knew he was teasing.
As it happened, this spider was faster than lightning!
“He’s on the floor…hand me the glass!”Matt tried again. “Ahh, now I can’t see him; he blends into the tile.”
“It’s time for the vacuum then; I’m so sorry,” I said out loud. When I finished pushing the vacuum back and forth, relief washed over me because I assumed the spider had been swallowed into oblivion. Then guilt followed because we tried to save the creepy creatures. My emotions were mixed! I sat down at the table again, but not before examining my laptop with eagle eyes to ensure no more spiders needed screen time!
Five minutes later, I saw the spider again!
“Oh my gosh, Honey, he’s following me!”
“Who’s following you?”
“Who do you think is following me?!”
I ignored Matt’s razzing, but a chuckle managed to escape anyway. I grabbed the glass but missed the spider again. Good thing we weren’t on a baseball team! The spider certainly had an agenda – still racing to an unknown destination and much faster than us. My eyes stayed focused on the little fellow as it headed for the living room. He must be having the time of his life – the furniture would be a stellar playground!
“Just watch, I’ll find him on my chair in the morning,” I said.
“Could be. Should I make a bigger pot of coffee?” Matt replied, as he hid behind a grin.
After all the commotion, I had survived because we didn’t see the eight-legged visitor again, and extra coffee wasn’t needed in the morning.
However, I admit and without apology that I don’t step into the shower before peeking behind the curtain first. Overcoming this fear most likely won’t happen. But if I can save a spider, and manage to hang onto the glass while it skitters around, then make my way to the door to give it freedom, that’s progress. Amazing progress! Once outside, I gently lay the glass down and with leg synchronicity, the spider crawls out heading to the roses and lantana, making us both sigh with relief.
Neither of my thumbs have ever been green for the garden, and the last thing I wanted to do was deliberately put my hands in a spider’s haven. Nowadays though, I’m in tune with the blooms, so I don’t worry about the creepy-crawlies when I’m offering the blooms a drink. Fear doesn’t have the firm grip that it had in years past.
But have I conquered arachnophobia one hundred percent? No, but I realize this phobia doesn’t prey only on me. Knowing I’m not alone while learning to exist with arachnids, that some are good for gardens, and acknowledging that they’re not out to get me is a work-in-progress. I’ve come a long way since that evening at the cabin when Dad saved my life. Maybe his reaction incited fear. Yet, if the spider had begun its ascent onto my leg, fear would’ve hurled into full force anyway!
And so I wonder, had the spiders been laughing at me when their presence whirled me into a frenzy? My intentions were always good. I simply didn’t want to be roommates. Laughing with me would’ve been perfectly welcomed.
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© Lauren Scott, Baydreamerwrites.com – All rights reserved.
Cute spider photo found on the web.
Thank you for stopping by, and for taking the time to read this lengthy story.
Enjoy your weekend! ❤️

My latest collection of poetry, touching on nature, love, and the mysteries of life
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