It’s 9am on the dot. My daughters still asleep, so is my son, which is nice because I got to sleep in two whole extra hours, and boy did I need it. I grab my phone and roll over like a beached whale to head to the bathroom for the morning ritual of peaceful peeing. My hellcat is just following along, trotting and singing the song of her people. I’m not even awake enough to deal with her nonsense, let alone my own. I prop my phone up against a random shampoo bottle on the sink edge and pull up YouTube. I find a video I want to watch while I enjoy my private tinkle, where I sit an extra 15 minutes after I’m done because it’s quiet, well semi-quiet. There’s no kids banging and screaming because the door is closed, but there’s hellcat, at my feet meowing away, guarding the open doorway like a protection dog.
Suddenly I hear the rustling of children, and my brief moment of peace was gone as quickly as it came. My oldest walks across the hallway stopping at the door, wrapped in his Cars blanket to let me know he’s awake. I’m pretty sure at this point I know he’s awake because he’s standing in front of me, but whatever. My daughter hops up in her crib. I know this because it sounds like a monkey doing gymnastics, and my son proceeds to change her while I’m gathering myself. In a fresh diaper she comes bolting in waddle fashion into the bathroom, ramming her head into my knees, hugging and babbling away.
Kai comes into the bathroom to grab her and get her ready for breakfast. She didn’t like that because her banshee wail scared the hell out of me and made me choke on my toothbrush, causing me to swear like a drunken sailor. Both kids bust out in maniacal laughter. As they head downstairs, I just shake my head while trying to recover from the near brush of death with the toothbrush. I honestly didn’t even want to finish brushing my teeth after that. After a few minutes, I begin my tired trek over the baby gate of death and down the stairs. I hear the TV on downstairs on PBS kids with my oldest rustling around in the kitchen. As I’m almost towards the bottom I hear broken conversations and toddler babble regarding sausage patties and eggs, I just shake my head and finally hit the landing. My oldest jumps around the corner of the fridge yelling good morning, scaring the crap out of me, while my youngest is in her highchair fascinated by Elmo singing, dancing and clapping away.
I didn’t even make it into the kitchen when I felt something dart across my foot. I jump and begin to look around, my oldest still in the kitchen cooking sausage patties. At first I didn’t see anything, but then this huge spider darted back at my feet and I screamed and backflipped like a fish out of water onto the stair landing, still screaming and crying. My son comes flying around the corner to immediately face plant on the kitchen floor, spatula flying up in the air matrix style. So now he’s screaming because he fell while I’m on the landing still screaming at the spider while trying to crawl into the wall. Meanwhile the spider is laughing in all its glory standing still in the middle of the hallway and kitchen entrance.
Now before I go into more detail, I want you to remember this little detail. Our kitchen is baby proofed with magnetic cabinet and that magnet is always on the top part of our refrigerator.
Kai finally begins to get up off the floor, only to realize the spider is now darting directly at him. He starts screaming scooting around on his behind in an attempt to get away. He realizes that the spider is running incredibly fast and sporadic in his direction, so what does he do? He begins to try to open the cabinet doors like a madman in a cage trying to escape while screaming and crying for Jesus to save him. I’m still on the landing throwing shoes, and other random collected items on the shoe shelf, in the spider’s direction, hitting EVERYTHING but the spider. Pretty sure I broke a spice jar in the process as well. Kai wasn’t having it anymore and proceeded to Naruto his way out of the kitchen, leaving no countertop untouched. His eyes lit up as if he was running from the Wolfcreek killer, flying towards me in complete and utter terror. Both of us on the landing of the stairs holding each other as if it was the last time we would hold each other, all while the spider is stocked up, still, at the base of the landing. Mocking us in all it’s furry eight-legged pride.
Kai looks at me, eyes bright, “I have an idea!” His ideas never ever end well. For anyone, even more so, him. He grabs the diaper bag and swings it at the spider like it was a jackhammer. BAM BAM BAM is all I hear as he’s screaming “die spider! die!” Suddenly it’s quiet. We both pause and look around for the spider, it’s nowhere to be found. Kai begins to explore the surroundings leaving no nook and cranny unexplored. The spider was still no where to be found. So we both breathed a huge sigh of relief, looked at each other and laughed; poking fun at each other’s escapades throughout the whole ordeal. We begin to head towards the kitchen to finish cooking breakfast and make myself a cup of coffee–when suddenly the spider, which looked incredibly pissed, bolted towards us once more in defiance. I jumped on the countertop, screaming at Kai to kill it. Kai took a deep breath and began to beat it to death with the spatula he was using for the sausage. Finally the ten minute terrifying ordeal was over; the spider balled up, missing half its legs, had finally died. We quickly picked up its beaten corpse in a sheet of paper towel, and threw it in the trash. Of course not before saying to the dead spider, Good game arachnid of Satan, good game.