Miss Fuzz

I also posted this to Facebook, to those that may have already read this.

 

Today started like any other work-day....

Woke up bleary eyed, and I stumbled to the bathroom to begin my morning ritual.

I do the same things everyone else does as soon as they get out of bed in the morning. Turn on the bathroom light and wince at the bulbs, make mental notes about getting to bed earlier, and pee. Yep, I said it. Get over it.

So I finished my morning, "Okay, I guess I'm up," ritual, and reached to pull the shower curtain back to turn on the water for my morning shower.

Bam!!! Something isn't right.... You know that feeling? Something is off, but you can't really place it. Most of us look up. Yep up, because we know what we're looking for. Creepy, crawly, black, fuzzy, pissy, little monsters. Hoping the whole time, it's just the sleepy stupor or maybe I'm still dreaming.

So I'm scoping out the ceiling in my tiny tiny bathroom, making note to move away from the vent above my head. Wishing I hadn't closed the bathroom door, which was done to allow the man to sleep. When it happened.

Every hair on my body stood straight up. I felt the electrical charge almost immediately as I flew in to the bathtub with a muffled squeal.

(*Muffled because yes, I don't want to wake the man up after all.*)

There.... On the floor.... There she was....

Quarter-sized, legs included. Not huge to many, but dammit she was gigantic to me. And when she ran over my foot, she sent my adrenaline pumping in such a way you'd think I had just jumped out of a plane.

Oh my word was my blood pumping. There’s nothing like a charge of electricity at 5am.

I calmly stepped out of the bathtub. Careful not to disturb Miss Fuzz, but she was having none of it. She bolted for the towel hanging on the rack.

No way! I swung the towel wildly, knocking her to the floor, and in an act of defiant aggression she charged me. Body standing tall, legs bent at the knees, rushing quickly across the bath mat. It would have been admirable if it weren't so futile.

Mumbling through clenched teeth, "Oh no you didn't," I reached for and found the extra toilet paper roll on the back of the toilet. Wrapping the roll around my hand frantically, for what felt like years as she hurriedly pushed across the rug. Seven full rotations later, I felt I had sufficient shielding to grind her overly dignified happy ass in to the rug.

And that's exactly what I did....

With yet another muffled squeal, I slammed the perfectly wound paper down on top of her. A firm lump felt underneath it, I pushed her deeper in to the rug. Then scrubbing wildly, I imagined at this point that I'd ground her limp body down to 4 legs and a mangled mass.

Nearly panting and heart pounding so hard I could hear it, I gripped the remaining torso piece within my pinched fingers and flipped the paper over just enough to catch a glimpse of what, at the time, I was certain was a dead spider....

In classic horror movie style, when I opened my pinched fingers a smidge, she shifted. Thus began the stomping....

I threw the paper on to the fake wood linoleum, and smeared her lifeless body across the floor with my foot until I was certain that even residual muscle movements had ceased.

Heart still pounding, I picked up the paper, spider parts scattered from edge to edge, and gingerly placed it in the toilet. I watched carefully as the toilet paper spun away and then disappeared. I then stood there, breathing deeply, watching the toilet for more than a few seconds to be certain there would be no additional reappearance of Miss Fuzz.

I took a shower.