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20 June 2001 @ 04:54 pm
The itsy-bitsy spider  
Okay, we have to discuss an issue I have. A serious issue. An issue that really, really sucks.
I can't swallow pills. Not even the dinky little Sudafed ones. I just can't do it. I must have some incredible gag reflex.
Usually, to combat this problem I stick the pill into some yogurt and just swallow a big mouthful. It works well enough with aspirin. But, unfortunately, this new pill that I'm taking because only my Opthamologist knows why doesn't work well with dairy products so I have to swallow it the old fashioned way, with lots and lots of water.
So in the past two few I've gone through 10 pills (I'm only supposed to have one a day,) because I'll spit the pill out instead of swallowing it. But on Tuesday, I thought I was doing well. I managed to swallow the darn thing on the first try.
So on Wednesday (today) I go in the bathroom feeling pretty darn good. I fill up my water glass, I tilt back my head...
...and there's a huge scary ugly spider glowering in the corner of the bathroom ceiling.
I freeze. I'm scared of spiders. Terrified. And this one is big and black and I bet she has a red hourglass on her stomach. Helpme. "Okay," I tell myself, "I have to take this pill." So I ignore the spider and put the pill in my mouth and take a big mouthful of water.
A few seconds later I'm gagging and there's water all over the counter.
Ten minutes and seven pills later I still don't have the stupid medication in my bloodstream.
"Okay," I tell myself, "The spider has got to go. Big Brother!" My brother's not home. He went to his friend Andy's house to get a video game or something. "Daddy?" Daddy's gone to work. I'm all alone in the house.
Meanwhile the spider is crawling closer, closer, closer...
I'm scared to leave the spider alone in the bathroom, because the minute I'm gone it'll spin a giant web and take my toothbrush hostage, I bet. But I need help. So I run to my mom's bedroom and get the phone and dial the only person I can think of who would be home.
"Davy, I need you to come kill a spider." My brave hero. He can kill the spider - he has a pet tarancula, after all. Tick tick tick tick... "When you're done laughing at me you slimy bastard will you kill the damn spider?" Ten minutes later he comes over and squishes it like...uhm...a bug. But not before making me sign a waver stating that I owe him one BIG favor and laughine me and telling me every creepy spider story in the whole wide world. And then I have to sit and listen to every single detail of his trip to his Aunt's house back in England. This is the most boring story in the world, and he knows it. Especially the part about the carpet.
Meanie.
But at least the spider's gone and my toothbrush is intact.
.
.
.
Wait a minute...There's a centipede crawling up my bedroom wall...
HEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLPPPPPPPP!!!!!!








Most of that really happened. The centipede turned out to be a millipede, though. One of those stupid little technicalities that nobody cares about at midnight.