I can handle anything

I'm an Army wife. My husband is deployed. I have a very curious, inquisitive, rambunctious, and obnoxious two and a half year old. I have a wonderful Mommy's-girl, 7 month old {{when the heck did that happen?!}} who only wants to be near me. And I am currently baking another, that is sure to be the worlds next soccer star. I've dealt with a number of household emergencies since my husband left, even managed some on little to no sleep with sick children. I'm pretty awesome and I can handle anything...

However, nothing will turn me into a screaming, running 9 year old faster than a spider. Any spider. Yes, even daddy long legs. It's pretty sad. I've been known to vacate a room for hours waiting on J to get home. When that isn't an option I try any means possible to kill it without getting anywhere close to them {{did you know sliding a phone book across a laminate floor will kill a bug?}} Lets not even discuss the amount of time it takes for me to build my courage up to actually go through with killing them. It's also very sad. Through out this deployment I've been working on the length of time it takes to kill them. It totally freaks me out {{especially when they drag their dead bodies around by one working leg - EW!!}} But, after all, I don't have a choice {{besides when I lose sight of them and they are running free in my house, it just creeps me out that much more}}.

A few weeks ago, after killing the sixth disgusting, hugemongous, gross, brown house spider, my nerves had enough. I called an exterminator. The sweetest older woman answered the phone. I told her why I was calling and though she couldn't give me a guarantee I wouldn't see more, she told me I would see a lot less than I had been seeing {{Good enough for me!!}} I also asked her if they would knock down all the webs and kill the spiders on my porches. I thought nothing of her answer, "I'm sure we can do that." Then she said they'd be out the next day and we got off the phone.

I know this is totally sexist, but I was expecting a big burly man with his butt crack hanging out to show up at my door the next day {{aka John Goodman ala arachnophobia}}. So, imagine my surprise when my doorbell rang the next day and who stood before me was NOT a big burly man ready to take on and rid me of my house spiders. No, it was a five foot tall, seventy year old great grandma of three... Apparently, I didn't need a man...

I needed Betty White...



{{BTW, before I get hate mail for being an ageist, she did a GREAT job! She even knocked down all the webs on my porches. I merely find it quite humorous that I was out-womaned by a seventy year old woman.}}