Last night, I was relaxing in my study watching an episode of Eureka on Hulu, when all of a sudden I was startled with screams from my wife, "DAVID! COME HERE!"
Earlier, I heard the patio door close, and knew that she was outside puttering around.
With adrenalin now rushing through my veins, I ran outside to inquire of her dismay.
She was standing by the pool, with a bit of terror in her eyes, pointing at a fairly large piece of fecal matter, commonly known in my vernacular as a turd.
"WHAT IS THAT?", she trembled.
I looked in her eyes, and again surveyed the turd, and thought to myself, what am I to say? I don't recall reading in the good husband manual, that I must be able to spontaneously identify various species by their turds.
Seeing that a response was needed, I responded with, "that's a turd".
Now, in my childish male mind, I envisioned that this proclamation would certainly earn me points. You know... points..that I might later use because of my "knight in shining armor" heroics in full display. I was here to protect her from this turd!
She bludgeoned my pride with two simple words, "FROM WHAT?"
My goose was cooked, my hopes were dashed. I was backed into a corner with no escape. The only words I could muster were, "what...am I a Turdologist?"
I gave the turd a boot with the side of my foot, and it cleanly rolled into a small garden area from view. Not certain of said turds origin, I proclaimed, "it must be from a bobcat, or perhaps a great horned owl."
It was clear, by the lack of tension in the air, that this scene was over. I didn't possess the answer, and she was still unsatisfied of her safety walking around our patio at night, as she still has not forgotten last years encounter with a rattlesnake.
Now, just as I turned around to go back into the house, and resume my episode of Eureka, I spotted something move in the corner, by the very door I must pass. I stopped, surveyed, and immediately said, "holy cow, look at the size of that scorpion".
In less than a millisecond, my wife was behind me peering around me at the mysterious moving object. Clearly, my wife is not of the woman's liberation movement. Here she is, behind me, expecting that I will die on her behalf, if need be.
Hmmm...do I smell points again?
Now, to be clear, I was barefoot, it was dark, and I couldn't see this potential malfeasant. Thinking it was a scorpion, and a large one at that, I determined to rush inside, grab the flashlight, my glasses, and to procure an object of death.
My wife is screaming, "here...use this hammer". You had to be there, it was priceless to see her standing with the hammer, hoping upon hope, that I would utterly destroy this thing, for she was once again terrified, and reduced to screams of terror.
I rejected her proposed instrument of death, and said, "let me first clearly identify what we are looking at here." For, because of the darkness, I wasn't sure what this object was. I ran out the door with my flashlight, my glasses, and now my wife's tennis shoes donning my feet. Her shoes were the closest footwear in sight.
I once again approached the object, my wife is standing afar, "what is it, what is it!" To my surprise, it wasn't a scorpion at all, but a very large, hairy Tarantula.
Now, this called for a completely different approach. I'm thinking that this hairy monster is not my nemesis, but likely a welcome visitor. Of course, my wife doesn't agree, but I have determined not to kill it.
With adrenaline still pumping through my veins, I barked a short request, 'Carol, go get the "snake-picker-upper-thiny', and I will toss this guy over the wall." Now, you can see the "snake-picker-upper-thingy", in the picture above. I have used it numerous times to remove snakes from our yard. But never a large, hairy tarantula.
Carol stood far away, shining the flashlight on the tarantula, and I gently grabbed him by one of his legs, stood for a photograph of my conquest (points..don't forget the points), and then placed him over the wall.
I didn't tell my wife that he could easily scale the wall again, and simply return if he liked. But I did notice that she carefully secured and locked each door last night, as though this spider might reach up, turn the door knob, and enter our house.
Thus ended our exiting night. Me, the knight in shining armor, a few points in my pocket, and now a wife who will be thinking twice about her ventures outdoors at night.
Ah...living in the Sonoran desert is quite the adventure. I wonder what it will be like when we encounter a Gila monster?
