My husband woke me up this morning at the butt-crack of dawn. I groaned and rolled over, trying to open my eyes.
“Honey, wake up. I need your help.”
I shot straight out of bed. You see, my husband is a very ‘manly’ man. He doesn’t think he needs help for anything, and never ever asks for help for any reason. The fact that here he was saying he needed help, sent adrenaline shooting through me.
I then noticed that he was kind of standing bent over.
“I need you to do me a huge favor.”
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching out my arms.
“Okay, what do you need my help with?”
“There’s a spider in the bathroom.”
I dropped my arms and looked at him. He is scared to death of spiders, but seriously? I climbed back into bed.
“No, please, I’m begging you. I really need to go to the bathroom, but it’s on the ceiling above the toilet.”
“Then just keep an eye on it while you do your thing. I’ll get it later.” With that settled, I rolled over and closed my eyes.
“That won’t work. If I stand there, watching it, I can’t go. I swear I can see it’s eyes are watching and waiting for the right opportunity to free fall onto my head. If that happens mid-stream…”
Groaning, I rolled over to face him. “Then sit your ass down.”
“If I’m sitting down, and it decides to skydive onto me, and my pants are around my ankles, I’ll be trapped. Death by Spider. You don’t want that, do you?”
I sat back up and hung my head.
“Please? I’m getting a really bad stomach ache and I’ve got to get ready for work.”
I got up and grabbed a roll of paper towels and walked into the bathroom. Looking at the ceiling above the toilet, I squinted. There it was, the dreaded spider. About half the size of a pea.
I stood on the toilet and reached up and squashed it.
“There. Happy now?”
“Oh my gosh, you are my hero. I’m going to call you Queen of the Bathroom.”
I rolled my eyes. “You call me that even once, I’ll call you divorced.”
“Fine,” he said as he hurried back to the bathroom. “I’ll be King of the Throne, and I’ll just call you My Queen”.