Yesterday I was sitting on the floor, reading to Bella. We were on one of those Pillow Pet deals, hers is a ladybug, reading Good Night Moon.

Well, not so much reading as turning the pages double because she just likes to find the mouse, “Mou Mou” and shriek with delight. And the mouse is only on the colored pages.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I see a spider running out from underneath the pillow. Nearly throwing Bella across the room, I jump to my feet and scream, then look at her huge eyes wondering what my deal is. She grins and points at it, “Zzzzzttt,” and looks at me to confirm.

I do not confirm because I hate spiders. Hate.

It crawls across the floor and under her nightstand. To come out later and kill us or something. I realize I need to get it, but Sam isn’t home. And this leaves me with quite the dilemma:

Apparently, it is my job to kill the spider. And I don’t kill spiders.

Because my mom lives 600 miles away, I really don’t have a choice. I think about toilet paper and then gag when I realize this includes squishing it and either feeling or hearing that happen. Or?

It crawls out of the tissue. On me.

ZOMG.

Instead, I decide on an air spray can that cleans our computers for freezing it, along with some type of rug cleaner to make sure it’s dead. I head back to the bedroom armed and ready.

It’s gone.

So I take apart the nightstand; pull out the drawer and the books, flip them over ever so carefully to avoid contact with the horrid creature. Nothing. Not a sign. I start to blow the air can into all the cracks hoping to get him out or simply freeze him right in his hidy hole. Bella stands looking at me quizzically, as if pondering when she is going to be able to play with the spider once I’m done spazzing out. Finally, I give up and keep a sharp eye out for him the rest of the day. Everything that touches me makes me shudder.

Next I find the caulk and caulking gun that Sam left out. Knowing our sink and bathroom need touch ups, I figure this is the perfect time. I skim read the directions and start to press the gun over and over. And over. And not a drop comes out. I look carefully at the top and realize it hasn’t been opened. So I grab the scissors and cut it open – only to have it begin to shoot out caulk at an alarming rate all over the place.

Immediately I try to use it to caulk the sink, but it’s too fast. I can’t get it to do much of anything but make a white web all over the kitchen. I put my finger on the top of the tube and read the directions again. “Push thumb trigger in to release.”

Ah yes. The thumb trigger. How simple. Why didn’t I do that?

Because I don’t know where the farking thumb trigger is. And I’m trying everything to get it to stop, while managing to pump it several more times and cause it to make an even larger mess. At this point I drop it over the side of the trashcan to let it keep on caulking in there while I clean up the mess. Bella stares at me and the mess as if to say, “What the deuce Lois?” Indeed.

I text Sam, “I tried to caulk with the gun and it made a mess and won’t stop coming out – how do I get it to stop?”

No answer.

After a good 15 minutes, it’s barely doing anything. I take it out of the caulked trash can and leave it alone. Sam calls a couple hours later and explains the shiny silver tab on the back of the gun? That is the thumb trigger. And to push in.

The rest of the day was spent on the patio watching Bella play in the pool. Really, how badly could I screw up putting water in the pool?

Until I hosed down the patio to get the stickers/bugs off and forgot my laptop was sitting on the table in the way…

Nicely done Diana. Nicely done.

Tags: A funny, Daily Life, FAIL, Motherhood, Reasons to save for for therapy