Arachnophobia

The other evening Clay and I were getting ready to go to bed. So I go to let the dogs outside and what is waiting there but a ginormous spider crouched at the door waiting for me to swing it open so it can swoop into the house. Of course I scream like a little girl and tell Clay to come and take care of this problem. Being the gentleman he is he goes to find a squisher (something that will adequately squash something the size of my fist) and the bug spray. My job during this fearful time is to watch the spider and make sure it doesn't dart further into our abode. Clay finally settles on the dust pan as the appropriate instrument of death and performs his husbandly duty of smashing the spider. At that point in time a million baby spiders begin running amok around our kitchen floor as Clay is furiously spraying the spider and spray and I'm jumping up and down screaming "Kill them Clayton! Kill them!!!" In the end we think we got rid of most (hopefully all) of the spiders. Lucky for us we get a bimonthly bug spray anyhow and all is right again in the world.