Spider-hood Memories

Just so everyone knows, soon-to-be famous people who know each other actually do hang out together sometimes.

This morning, I was at coffee with a friend (who is going to be almost as famous as I am -- except that she actually has some fans right NOW). It is such a lovely day that we were sitting outside at a table to talk.

Along came a spider that sat down beside her....

Actually, it crawled across the table in her direction as she squeeled, "Oooh! Yuck!" and hurriedly grabbed up her things to move them far away from the tiny arachnid. I have to admit, though, I wholeheartedly agree with my friend's "yuck" analysis and I would TOTALLY have done the exact same thing if the spider had been heading in my direction. (Yuck!)

We started talking about how icky spiders are and our "girly" reactions to them.

All of this reminded me of a story from when I was young, which I relayed. I think I was in about fifth or sixth grade and my family had stopped at a wayside along the Interstate highway (likely on one of the LONG trips to visit my grandparents). Mom, who was driving, needed a few minutes' break so my little brother and I started poking around the park part of the rest area. He probably headed over to whatever playground equipment was there (I forget), but I walked into the small wooded area. My father's daughter, the trees intrigued me. They were so "Robin Hood"-like!

There I was, walking through the trees toward nothing, when I came to a couple with a large spiderweb built between them. Well, I couldn't walk through THOSE trees, so I turned to my left to walk around them -- only to find another spiderweb stretched between the trees directly on my left.

I was about to turn to my right but, just then, my parents called me to come get in the car. I turned around to head back the way I had come. There was yet another spiderweb. I was trapped! No amount of parental cajoling could get me to move. Forget that I had just walked under the same spiderweb to get into the position where I was, I could simply not get to the car! In distress, I cried out to my parents.

I can still here my dad sigh, "All right," as he resignedly trudged into the woods. Picking me up, he threw me over his shoulder and carried me out through the trees like a sack of potatoes.