Die, die, die

Woke up this morning and stumbled into the bathroom, ready to make myself beautiful - well, socially acceptable - for another day at work.

And of course - because it's been a week or so since I've seen one and the wretches seem to be drawn to me a fat kid to a Smartie - there was a spider in the bathroom.

The size of my freaking hand.  

ON.

ADELE'S.

TOOTHBRUSH.

It was obscene, really, the huge black spider perched on a wee pastel green toothbrush with a happy-go-lucky little multicoloured train running along its tiny handle.

Pastel toothbrushes are HAPPY things.  

Happy things that belong to innocent, sweet babies...not creatures who've ascended from the murky depths to SUCK BLOOD and SCARE ME.

(those who know me, know my fear of spiders has no bounds whatsoever.  if one is smushed on a wall and it leaves the tiniest of marks, I will forever be afraid of the mark)

It was 3:35 a.m.  

If I woke Etienne up, he would kill me (with reason).

If I didn't kill the spider - which was likely a common house spider with absolutely no risk to humanity whatsoever but who really knows for sure -  IT MIGHT EAT MY FAMILY IF I LET IT LIVE.

She had to die.

And I had to be the one to shuffle her - well, squash her - off this mortal coil.

I was sucking up the courage, actually hyperventilating a little...when she suddenly started bumping up and down like a coked up pole-dancer named LaWanda at a strip club called The Skank.

That thing was HUMPING MY BABY'S TOOTHBRUSH.

I ran for the kitchen, grabbed a three-pound wad of paper towel, and made for the bathroom.

I had enough paper towel to squash a Golden Retriever...and I hit that sucker with enough force, I'm sure the boom was heard in Tokyo.

Then I smushed her again and again and again.  And again.  And again.

And I know there are people who might have carefully picked up the lovely spider (they eat bugs you know!) and gently, lovingly, moved her outside to skitter off into the sunrise, happily spinning webs that read TERRIFIC and HUMBLE and SOME PIG.

Well, SCREW THE PIG.  

Buh bye, beast.

You want some TERRIFIC and HUMBLE?

VICTORY IS MINE.

Huzzah huzzah

1.  Etienne is home.  

This is the best news I've had in oh, three weeks.  He was in Atlantic Canada first, and then off to Chile for a ten-day stint covering fisheries and the rape of the local economy.  The three weeks - they were long.  And I mean, beat your hand with a hammer repeatedly for three weeks long.  

His mother came and took over the girls' wake-ups and drop-offs, while I was busy yammering on the radio in the morning...she's a freaking saint.  But I'm glad it's over and we're back in the routine.  I missed my Etienne.

2.  Eva spent her week at CIRCUS CAMP.  We went to the big end-of-week show yesterday and she absolutely made me MELT beforehand because the trolls had been told to pull their hair back and (OH DEAR GOD, NO!) the elastic band holding her hair back FELL OUT.    She dissolved in tears and for a moment, it looked like her big circus brrreak wasn't going to happen.  But luckily someone came up with another elastic - I scraped her hair back into a messy ponytail and she was able to switch off the waterworks and suck it up for the big performance.  My girl likes to FOLLOW THE RULES TO THE LETTER.  

(As long as someone other than Mama makes the rules) 

But I digress.

Anyway, they did some cool acrobatics and pyramids and jumping and running...after which she spun a plate on a stick balanced on her finger,  for a total of about 0.03 seconds.

I managed somehow to flick the aging synapses into motion and snap a photo.

CIRQUE DU SOLEIL, BABY!!!

Afterwards, we wandered a few blocks down to the Jazz Festival where a gigantic blue bubblegum ice cream cone caught her attention like no sweet jazz ever will:

By the time she finished, it was smeared around her lips, on her forehead, her shoulders, and in her hair.  She looked like a Smurf had exploded beside her.  

But so beautiful.  And so happy.

3.  Addie has begun waving her hand imperviously and snorting, "une minute, Mama" when it's time to do anything.  Not even two, and she's basically telling me to keep my gitch on and WAIT.  I fear fifteen.

4.  Ordered Chinese food the other night and Evita asked, "So who is more Asian-ey...Chinese or Japanese people?"  It prompted a little lesson in geography and I guess anthropology?  Sociology?  I dunno.  At any rate, I explained they are equally...um...Asian-ey.   She's still not convinced - and appears to be pulling for China.

5.  Was in a shop at the Market the other day and slipped on a wet piece of the tile floor.  I skidded violently and whacked my hand on a metal spice rack, causing some immediate bruising, swelling, and bleeding (pride and hand).  

The Girl behind the Cash Register chirped blithely, "Oh, be careful".   Uh yeah.  Thanks - that helps a lot.  If I'd known my sliced hand wouldn't spray blood everywhere, I'd have smacked her with it.

6.  It's SUMMERTIME and Coco's killer instincts have kicked in.  

The other day, I found the ass end of a mouse - complete with an extra bit of spine hanging out - by the back door...and  a tiny dead bird curled up for a dirt nap at the end of the driveway.  

And then there's the tidy present Coco left for Adele, by her toy basket in the living room.

Are y'all feeling the love the cat has for the troll?

Hellooooooo disinfectant.

7.  Have I mentioned that Etienne is home?

Happy.