So, I hate spiders. A lot. Maybe not the most irrational fear, but I think I hate them more than most. On our way out the door yesterday, I noticed a rather large spider on its web outside our door. I asked Doran if he would kill it and so he did (or said he did). He said he lit the web and spider on fire until it all burnt away. I was pleased. Upon returning later that night, he said, "See! No more spider!" He then proceeded to open the door and said "Nevermind!" The rather large spider was right there in our door frame. I stepped back a couple steps and asked him to please kill it so I could come in. He grabbed his lighter (a boy thing?) and lit the spider on fire. Upon hitting the ground, I hear Doran say "oops" as he noticed the spider's 50, not exaggerating, 50! spider babies that were chillin on its back scatter across the tile. He starts squishing all of them as I stand far away repeating, "Oh my gosh..... Oh my goodness.... Oh my gosh..... Oh my goodness.....". It took me a couple minutes to come inside and a couple hours to get the "there are spiders crawling all over me" feeling to go away. I hate spiders, but I love my husband for killing them. All 51 of them.
(I was going to post a picture of a spider with babies on its back so you could all see how HORRIBLE it was. However, the pictures gave me the heebie jeebies and made me want to cry again. So I will refrain, sparing both you and I that horrible image.)
