Look, we are NOT hosting the Bachelorette!

 

This is the time of year that I wished I lived in a all white house, with white pickled wood floors, white carpets, white furniture, white everything. Now maybe the first thing through your mind is, white is cooling.  But there is a much better reason for a white decor at this time of year.

I want to live with white decor because of all the dark wolf spiders who will show up like the great big hairy monsters that they are.  Who decided August is the month to run rampant through my ground floor condo looking for a date?  And why my place? This is no bachelor pad, and frankly we are not hosting the Bachelorette!

For some reason I am hosting my very own bachelor/bachelorette party, and the prize if you are unlucky at love is a close encounter with a can of hairspray, which works wonders if you are overcome by screaming fits when you see a spider. Nothing like a permanently frozen glistening little lump of bug eater on your carpet to calm down those fears.  Not that I do that any more, honestly, I am just threatening them, and I am over the screaming fits, ah..really, I am.

Single dark [handsome hairy fella], seeks SFWS [single female wolf spider] for mate, must have fuzzy legs, and voracious appetite for insects.

Let’s meet at Jen’s place.  NO WAY BUDDY!

Looking for love, and finding the can of hairspray is not what these contestants had in mind when they slithered through the smallest gap of the screen, oozed through any available crack, skipped over my bare feet, and scuttled through the towels as we reach for them while blinded by water from the shower.

Shivering yet?

If not, I envy you, really.  Tell me how do you cope?

Hey, did you just pick up your bare feet and perch them on your chair, admit it, you just spent a few seconds looking at the floor, didn’t you?

I know only that I look everywhere before I reach, every step I take, every chair I sit on might have a contestant, and as the hostess it’s my job to set them clear. 

You belong outside, not in my bedroom, nor my tub, no I don’t care if you were thirsty, stay away from my clothes, stay out of my living room!

And don’t eat Bootsie! I mean it!

This is a outdoor only venue, you are free to hang out on my deck, lurk under my planters, perch between the rocks, and skitter through the hosta’s, I know you will anyways. You might give me a heart attack when I see you, but at least I know where you are, outside, where you belong.

i won’t squirt you with water, I won’t spray you with pesticides, [much as I so do desire to drench the place, I won’t], and I won’t squish you, inside or out. 

You don’t belong in my living room, during this month of loooooooove.  The other night I was watching TV and there was a great big honking one running across the floor.  Gar offered to squish it, [I do love him so] but I declined thinking it would leave on it’s own accord.  It’s still there somewhere, and I am stocking up on hairspray.

So contestants, if you are looking for love, please compete outside. This is one party you don’t want to win the grand prize of hairspray at.

Jen @ Muddy Boot Dreams