Ok - imagine for a moment you are in your bed, looking up, and see a teeny spider dropping a thread down from your ceiling. Now multiply that by 20. It was like the spider paratroopers were coming to capture our bed. After frantically doing a "kill the spider dance" * on our bed and fibbing to our daughter ("it's nothing honey, just some dirt on the ceiling"), there are still spiders coming. I guess they hatched in the light fixture and neither W nor I are willing to open it up and check. Would you?
After several spiders fell on our bed, we pulled all the sheets and blankets off and will probably not sleep here tonight. I am sitting sentry and have killed another dozen** teeny spiders.
This is a true story and the sad part is that it appears to be a metaphor for my entire week. Er, um, I am not even sure what that means...just that I have had a hellish week.
* On the bottom floor of our house, in front of the kids, we use a spider ambulance and capture the spiders and then release them outside. In the bedrooms, we squish them.
** Make that 14.