Husband looks at me and says

..."there is monster mud in your hair."

"Yeah, I know."

He says, "I know that you have been working with mud, and I can see it getting on the sides of your head as you are pulling your hair out of the way....but how did it get on the top of your head?"

In my mind I am thinking......you really don't want to know.

"It is a long story and it involves a spider." I say.  He leaves it at that, cause he is a very, very smart man.  He has heard enough of my spider stories.......

......he knows that is what my blog is for. :)

....soooooo, I am working away remudding my two mud men that I totally *%$#ed up earlier.  (This is the theme for the graveyard this year.....do it wrong the first time.)

I have to run into the shop to get a tool out of the back.

I hurry through and about half way through I feel something fall lightly on the top of my head.

And if you are me.  Anything that falls lightly on your head = spider.

The panic button is pushed, flashing lights are going off in my brain and a clear message is ALL I can hear in my head is

"GET IT OFF!!!!"

So I do what I normally do when that message takes over and brush hand in the general direction of said spider in an attempt to get the monster back to a safe distance from the frog queen.

I take my hand, covered in monster mud and brush it across the top of my hair.

One of my MANY bad ideas.

My hand gets stuck in my hair and basically coats the top of my hair in monster mud.  And a smart person, not suffering from "spidershock" would not have immediately taken the other hand and brushed it in roughly the same spot.

Great.  I have monster mudded hair.

Which sends one thought through my "spidershock" brain.

I just monster mudded a spider to my head....didn't I?

This is baaaaaad.

In my mind I am envisioning a spider that desperately (now that he has seen this is a hostile place to be) is trying to leave my head but cannot because his legs are covered in mud and he can barely move.

I picture him desperately trying to run for his life....his huge legs to free his blind body (cause he is many, many eyes are covered in mud) from my hair.

And in my head I am rooting him on!

Go spider.....go!

I think I climbed the shop stairs (where there is a mirror) to the bathroom in two steps.

You will be free spider....hang on, trust me....I want this more than you do.

I get up there and examine my hair in the mirror.....sure to find a spider.

And I do.

Seeing how much mud is actually in my hair.....it is apparent, he is not trying to get out.

I have buried him alive in my hair.

....NFW!   This is really not happening to me.

I have never wanted to not be in my body so much as that moment.

I am soooo not touching him....but if I grab a towel to remove him....what if he is not dead and starts moving again.....I am going to faint.

Cannot faint....spider will eat my brain.

So I turn the water, put my head under the facuet the best I can, on and gingerly try to remove the mud out of my hair hoping to take said spider with it.

After what seems like a million attempts....he is free and down the drain.

Then I have flash backs to that horrible Night Gallery episode where the spider gets washed down the drain and keeps coming back, larger each time.

What have I done!

If these spiders do not leave me alone soon....I am going to run out of wine!