This morning, I was leaving to run errands with the boys. Darren had graciously left me his car since it was gonna be a hot one, and my van doesn't have A/C.
So I loaded the boys up, opened the driveway gate, and started to back out. All of a sudden, a spider dropped from the rubber seal of the door and landed right on my forearm, then proceeded to run RIGHT UP MY SLEEVE!
Just like a GIRL.
I started flailing around, trying to get the monster out of my clothing before he ate me alive. Truth be told, he was a tiny spider. No bigger than a pencil eraser, counting his legs and all. SMALL spider. I. Did. Not. Care. I wanted him OFF.
So I'm all but taking my shirt off all the while batting at my arm like a crazy woman when I hear it: "crrrrrrrrrrrumple CRACK!" DadGUM it! In my freakout, I'd rammed the dadgum stupid car mirror right into the blasted dumb gate! Broke it. Scraped up the fender of the car. I put it back in forward, pulled up, inspected the damage, let out a string of not-nice words, and THEN remembered that there was a freakin' spider in my shirt. So I took off my shirt, turned it inside out, shook the living daylights out of it, slapped myself silly all over the place to make sure he wasn't still ON me, put my shirt back on, and calmly backed out of the driveway.
I'm just glad no one was passing by at the time.
THEN, not TWO MINUTES later, Aidan rolls down his window in the backseat, which is a MAJOR no-no. "Don't worry, Mom," he says. "There was a spider on my window, so I rolled it down to make him fall off. But he came inside the car when I rolled it down."
Stupid useless ugly scary dumb nasty creepy twisted freakin' SPIDER. I hate 'em all.