The other night I killed two spiders on my way to bed. Which consisted of walking down one flight of stairs. Yes, 2 spiders, one flight of stairs.
I got into bed and I was feeling a bit creepy. You know that feeling when it just feels like there are spiders all over you? And when the sheet brushes your leg you jump? And when your hair moves unexpectedly you end up hitting yourself in the head multiple times just on the off chance that something was in your hair? You know that feeling?
So, anyway, there I was lying in the dark, alone, I might add. John was at volleyball. (apparently he didn't get enough in CA. . .) I am at the point where I realize I'm being a bit ridiculous, that there are not spiders crawling all over me and I am just over reacting, when I feel something brush my neck. I figure it's the sheet. Then I feel something MOVING inside my bra. Yes. Totally serious. I reach in, pull it out and chuck it has hard as I can all while yelling, "EW! EW! EW!"
I went to the store the next day and bought a HUGE bottle of bug killer.