Just call me Patrica Parker, AKA Spiderwoman

Do you ever have those days when you’re not comfortable in your own skin? When something just doesn’t feel right and it’s almost more than you can bear? I know I do, and today happened to be one of them. Then I came home to my DH, who had a little something…interesting to show me.

A tarantula! WTF?! Say it isn’t so! Oh, wait, it’s only a tarantula’s skin…well, skin, hair and even fangs. Eeeeeeep!

Come to find out, this particular spider sheds his entire outer shell once a year. I hate spiders. HATE with a capital everything! So I find it very odd that I actually found myself envious of such a creepy, crawly being.

What if I could just take my top off (keep it clean, people) and crawl out of my shell once a year? How nice would that be? A fresh start, new fangs and all!


P.S. How ironic that I, the woman who literally has nightmares about spiders OFTEN, comes home to this when just last night I caught a spider with my bare hands who had been crawling on my face like it was some kind of moon bounce. What does this mean? Is there something the good Lord is trying to teach me that has something to do with one of my worst fears? If so, I’d like to learn the lesson and just get on with it already!
Cor actually dared to pick the monstrosity up. Look closely. His fangs are those shiny black thinkgs just above the red markings in the center. Kill me now!