That is my thought each morning as I leave the house, walk to the car, and feel the silky threads of spider webs across my face. And this morning was no different, as I tried to balance my briefcase and tote bag while frantically wiping the sticky filaments away — only to feel them invisibly drag across my ears and into my hair.
When I remember to, I’ll leave the house empty handed – so I can walk to the car swinging my arms in front of me like a malfunctioning robot to knock down any webs that might be at face level. Then I’ll walk back to the house, grab the brief case and tote bag, and race back to the car before the little buggers have a chance to reload. (I suppose a broom handle could accomplish the same thing, but that would look odd — wouldn’t it?)
More often than not, I forget about the webs overnight. My eight-legged friends don’t forget, though. In fact, while I’m sleeping, they’re as busy as Rumpelstiltskin. When I do my wiping routine, I even think that they’re laughing at me. If my two eyes can see my antics as funny, can you imagine how hysterical I am to eight eyes?
Another one of my no-cameras-please moments happens when I’m weeding and my hand accidentally brushes up against poison ivy. I immediately descend into all-out Silkwood shower scene mode. If you’re not familiar with the story, Meryl Streep portrays the real-life Karen Silkwood, who was a whistleblower on a nuclear facility. Here is a link to the movie trailer. The shower scene is at 1:44. I’ll wait for you to come back . . .
Yup, that would be me.
When I come into any kind of contact with the shiny leaves, I literally hear sirens and alarms in my head. I first plunge my hands into chlorinated pool water. Then it’s a mad dash to the garage to rinse the contaminated area with bleach (I have no idea if this works, but I figure bleach kills everything). I race back to the pool water, and then into the house to scrub my skin with anti-bacterial soap. (Not an oil-based soap because that would only spread the ivy oil.)
I’ve never had the poison ivy rash – but I’ve seen it on friends and family, and I’m terrified of the allergic reaction. Poison ivy is even legendary in Joe’s family. Here’s the story. When his grandmother was a little girl growing up on a farm in Brooklyn, her mother gave her and each of her sisters a poison ivy sandwich – that’s one leaf between two slices of bread. His grandmother and her sisters were then immune to the oil and could actually stand in a field of poison ivy and not have a reaction.
I certainly can’t recommend this because a) it sounds wacky, b) it’s quite dangerous and the jury is still out on the success of such a practice, and c) Joe’s grandmother is no longer with us so I can’t confirm the story. Personally, I’d rather live by the age old adage, “Leaves of three, leave them be.”
So far, so good – but those spiders sure are getting a lot of laughs at my expense. I’m just thankful they don’t have any hidden cameras.