You’re all curious, I’m sure, as to how Army Boy and I are now surviving since officially moving in together.
If you’re not curious, oh well. You are going to hear about it anyway.
I wish that I had some ridiculously comic anecdotes that could actually be turned into extended metaphors for life in general, but nope. None of that.
It’s just going really well. The best thing that I can think to say is that we take care of each other. I don’t pretend to believe that it’s always going to be this easy: we’re not always going to want to do the cleaning together or the laundry or the grocery shopping, but for now we do and it’s fun.
We may or may not argue over who gets to wash the bathroom. (Answer: Me. I’m better at it.)
Sometimes we just look around and can’t exactly believe that THIS IS IT, our house. We’re living in it. I’m sure that fact will be much more real when we pay our first mortgage payment. That’s a lovely trick The System has come up with… you get to play house in this charming place for about a month and then WHAT? You want money? This is bullshit!
There are so many positives to this… There’s someone to check the basement when I hear creepy noises, or to make yet another call to the plumber because something is leaking AGAIN…
Oh. And someone to kill the spiders. Can we talk about the spiders for a minute?
I hate them. HAAAATE. Apparently spiders are a sign of a good dry house or some nonsense. Which might be a step up from the centipedes that resided in my last residence. Either way, ew bugz gross kill kill kill.
Last night we dealt with one such experience while getting laundry from the basement. (Is it twisted that I love my shiny new appliances? Don’t answer that.) I went to put the warm towels in the basket on the laundry table when HOLY SHIT SPIDER THE SIZE OF MY HAND *WHIIIIINES*
Yup. Basically. A spider the size of one of those miniature horses was perched nonchalantly on the wall, all “sup, Roomie?” This sighting caused me to lose all language facility and revert to moans and pointing and vague spider-looking motions with my fingers.
At first, Army Boy couldn’t figure out what all the commotion was about, then he sprang into action and grabbed the bug sprayer.
I kid you not. Not a shoe, or a newspaper, or a sledgehammer.
He was going to SPRAY the damn thing to death.
Women know that if you give a spider half a chance, it will run like hell and crawl into the nearest tight space where you will be unable to kill it. They must be SMASHED to oblivion before they have a chance to react. So he’s spraying, and I’m nagging, and this HUGE fucking spider is crawling drunkenly toward the nearest hiding spot….not dying exactly, but acting like its had one too many Jack-and-Cokes while out with the guys, and then?!
Army Boy walks away. Surreptitiously to find something with which to squish this bastard, but that was not good enough for me. Ooooh no, I upped the intensity of my nagging because SO HELP ME GOD IF THAT THING ISN’T SQUISHED AND GETS ANYWHERE NEAR MY SHINY DRYER….
Just to shut me up, he returned with a wad of paper towels, and smashed it with his hand. His HAND. *shudders at the memory*
(Note to self: Remind Army Boy to clean the spider-smear left behind after said squashing.)
He then picked up the giant carcass using a forklift and brought it upstairs where he flushed it.
I’m not even kidding, all night I could sense the ghost of the big effing spider wanting to crawl into bed with us.
I also have been lead to one conclusion: Men are just as afraid of spiders as we are. And rather than get close enough to smash(re:touch) them, they’d rather slip them some spider rufies and wait for them to pass out.
I confided this episode in Danielle, and she commiserated in the hatred of all things arachnid. However, Seth responds to these situations in a manner much more satisfactory to the fairer sex:
Danielle [2:40 PM]:
Danielle is upstairs cleaning the bedroom. Seth is in the basement, doing boy things (probably watching his soaps). Suddenly Danielle spots a giant, wicked, monster in the corner. Dear god! ITS A SPIDER.
“London….LONDON…GET IT!” London just looks up at Danielle and says….’woman, that will kill my diet. Nice try.’ So Danielle worried. Oh MY HECK this could be a brown recluse. I could get bit and lost my ARM! Oh my gosh, what if London gets bit. She’s tiny…it would KILL HER.
OH MY GOD. WHAT DO I DO. Danielle shoos London away her proceeds to stick her tongue out at Danielle. Danielle looks back to the brown, wicked, beady-eyed monster. It is still there.
Suddenly she remembers her better half. “SETH! SETH!” she screams a blood curling scream. Seth comes running from his soaps. “DANIELLE?” Seth cries. “FIRE!” Seth runs through the house with lightning speed thinking ‘oh my god…a fire….oh my god!’. When he gets upstairs he realizes that Danielle had screamed SPIDER and not fire….where he proceeds to step on the little bugger…and send him down the toilet to his watery grave. (I still don’t like using that toilet….thinking Night of the Living SPIDER!)
(Again with the familial resemblance and the penchant for CAPSLOCK)
So yeah. Things are going great.