Arachnophobia

It was the biggest fucking thing I have ever seen.
Hairy. 8 long legs. Silent. Still. Waiting. For. Me.
I don’t know what kind it was. I don’t really care. It was so big I could see it’s eyes.
I don’t use the word ‘hate’ much. But I hate spiders.
Especially ones that are waiting for me on the door handle.
From afar it would have looked like I had been electrocuted. I jumped back a mile. A girly scream may or may not have accompanied it.
I picked up what was left of my self-respect and called my boys. They needed to be aware of the dangers. This was to be a teaching experience.
They came running. The mixture of a loud thud, a high pitched cry from their dad followed by a very deep gravelly call out to come to me as I returned my voice to the manly pitch it should have been had their interest piqued.
I grabbed the nearest long implement from the laundry for protection.
 “stand back” I said as I held out a shielding arm with one hand. A feather duster in the other.
“This thing could be dangerous”
“oh my god” said Zak “it’s huge!”
Max started moving towards it to get a closer look. I sprung forward half tackling him away from the beast.
“Stay back. Stay back. Are you mad?” I exclaimed while pointing my feather duster menacingly at the poised arachnid.
He starts to laugh.
“There is nothing funny about this situation” I state.
“Look how big this mothu fu……” I stop myself in time. ”…..this creature is. You must never touch something like this. Always call your mum – I mean an adult.”
“it’s not real”
“Eh. What?”
“it’s not real. I got it at a party”. Max grinned. “Pranked you!!”
I wasn’t sure whether to believe him. It would not have been the first time my boys have tried to prank me.
As far as I was concerned this thing was real. Until the police arrived to give the all clear no-one was going near it.
My 7 year old was pushing hard against me to get to the spider.
“Ok. Ok hang on. I will double check……. i’m going in.” I said
I shuffled slowly towards the door handle. The hairy brown huntsman eyeballing me. Feather duster at the ready I got within touching distance.
Then Max screamed a blood curdling scream. For no reason.
I may have soiled myself a little.
I turn around and the two of them are pissing themselves laughing at me.
I continue my quest even less composed than I was. I nudge the spider off the handle and it falls to the ground with a dull plastic thud and bounces onto its back. Motionless and still in the same position I nudge it with my toes. Nothing. I move in for the touch. It is hairy. These things are so real these days. But it is fake. A novelty item.
I look at the two of them as Zak picks it up and puts it in his pocket and I promise them that revenge will be sweet.
Every few days I find that bloody spider on my chair, under my book, on the toilet seat.
So I’m off to the shops to buy a snake that will just tickle their toes as they jump into bed.
But I know they will find it and without saying a word leave it for me under my pillow.
Sometimes I bring these things on myself.