
Jackie Wells-Fauth
Before I begin, I should confess that I really don’t like Charlotte’s Web. I mean, come on—a story about a pig that was saved by an artistic spider? It’s a little hard to take.
I have spent my whole life despising this insect (my grandson corrected me—arachnid) above most others and as the years have gone on, I have sent as many of the multi-legged, multi-eyed pests to their heavenly webs as I can. I don’t mind destroying their stringy abodes right along with them, so I guess that makes me the Godzilla to their delicate homes.
This anti-spider sentiment came to me this week as I was conducting my monthly, well, bi-monthly, (okay, semi-annual) cleaning of the ceilings. Spiders are so prevalent that my house looks pre-decorated for Halloween and I’m quite sure they are reproducing faster than the rabbits in my garden!
While I dislike spiders, I have developed a certain respect for them. I’ve learned that they are not just eight-legged decorations hanging from my ceilings. They have strategies. I was knocking down webs and trying to squash spiders once not so long ago and suddenly, one of the spiders, having kept still as I crept closer, hopped on the end of the broom and headed down the handle towards me. Knowing that spider bites are no joke, I of course, tried to scream it to death before it dropped off the broom to the floor and I was able to attach it to the bottom of my shoe. But I tell you, that spider had murder in its eye(s) and me in its sights!
When I was an elementary student, our music class always included the song, “The Itzy, Bitzy Spider.” It included hand movements demonstrating the intrepid spider going “up the water spout.” I always loved the part where the rain “washed the spider out.” I got in trouble, though, because I didn’t like that the spider survived to climb again, so I made a strangling motion with my hands on that part. I then motioned throwing the spider to the floor and stomping on it.
I have never regretted that action. I took a stand against making spiders lovable and admirable creatures when actually, they are nothing but creepy crawling wall-walkers, lurking in dark corners to drop in your hair. I will say, however, that my elementary music teacher is probably surprised that I didn’t turn out to be a sociopath—but my only obsession is an unhealthy need to get rid of spiders!
I read many years ago that in our lifetimes we swallow about 16 spiders, who crawl into our open mouths when we sleep. I have since read that this is inaccurate, but I still have the urge to sleep with tape across my mouth after I have encountered a spider.
I can’t help getting the creepy crawlies when I see people with pet tarantulas crawling on them; it makes me want to run! The only thing that comforts me about spiders is that they are small. Makes me feel like I’m in control. So spiders like tarantulas scare me more than most.
At one time, I happened to look up and there was an involved spider web up in the corner of my outside entry. And staring serenely down at me was the largest spider I have ever seen. Now, I know you’re waiting for me to tell you I killed it, but I didn’t. Remembering the small one that came after me, I was far too afraid of this queen of all the daddy long legs! So, I made it my friend. “Hello, Bride of Spiderman, how’s it going?” I warbled as I dashed into the house.
From then on, I always passed the time of day with Mrs. Spiderman, trying to keep her from dropping down on me. “So, I went shopping and got a new pair of shoes, what do you think?” I would say, showing my new sneakers. She never answered me, only crossing her eight legs to show that a mere two shoes is nothing.
In the end, I hated being looked down on (literally) by a spider and I waited for fall to fade into winter, at which time I scraped off the remains of her home in my entry with a snow shovel and buried it in a snowbank. I know, I know, she was long gone, but I felt more secure anyway!
As they watched me write this column, my grandsons were outraged at my hostility to spiders. They quickly pointed out that spiders are very useful creatures who do a great deal of good for our world. I think they have a good point, but they will never convince me to love “arachnids.” Is that the right word, Arthur?