Wimp or Woman?

Every morning before I leave the house, I set up my tripod, camera, and computer, and take my daily photo. It’s kind of a long process, but I do everything in the same order every single morning — an order I found to be most efficient. Set up the tripod…take the camera out of the closet…set up camera without turning it on…turn on computer…pull up the Internet…is this getting boring? The point is, I have an awesome routine.

Yesterday began no differently. I started the process, getting out my tripod first, then moving to the coat closet to get out the camera. As I turned toward the closet, something on the ceiling caught my eye. A black spot. A seriously disgusting thick black spider. I’m sort of embarrassed to admit that I know spiders (and we’ll get to that in a minute), meaning I knew that this was a jumping spider. I had to move underneath him to get to the closet, which was where the vacuum was (and I’ll tell you right now, I will NEVER kill a spider with a piece of toilet paper — that allows WAY too much contact with those nasty things). During this whole minute or so that I stood looking at the spider, thinking about how to kill it and avoid having it jump on my head, I suddenly realized I was nearly hyperventilating and even feeling sweaty (sorry…TMI?)

After killing the nasty spider (hitting it with our mop, which made it fall on the ground and then I quickly vacuumed it up), I sort of came back to my senses. The hyperventilating stopped, the beads of sweat were wiped away, and I went on with my daily photo, although still feeling imaginary bugs crawling on me.

Later during the day, I was thinking about this disgusting experience and realized how much this part of my personality has changed since I was younger. I may have mentioned before that growing up (before my dad had boys), I was the “boy” of the family. I was the one who helped my dad fix the toilet when it was broken. I was the one who climbed up on the roof to hang Christmas lights. And, you guessed it….I was the one who killed the bugs.

Why did I not care back then? Why did cleaning up cockroaches in the garage not bother me? Why did killing black widows in our backyard not make me nearly have a heart attack? Is this something that changes with age?

This was not that many years ago, people. Why am I SUCH a wimp now?

Does killing bugs not bother you? Did it use to bother you and now you don’t care? Or vice-versa?


In other news, I’ve changed my daily photo from Flickr to Picassa in google. The only bad thing is that it doesn’t tell me who’s looking at it, so I have no idea if anyone has even checked them out. (Or does it? Does anyone know how to see that information?). Leave a comment so I know what you think!



  1. cari says:

    It’s not being wimpy… it’s called being married. Why else do we have husbands if not for killing the spiders, mice, and other nasty things that invade our space?

  2. Packrat says:

    I’ve never liked killing anything except mosquitoes and flies. I used to be terrified of spiders, but am slowly learning to deal with those myself. Jumping spiders are just part of the furnishings now.

  3. I agree with comment #1. I think in some aspects, we become wimps when get married. that’s the man’s job to take care of the gross stuff that we have had to deal with in the past. But spiders and other bugs don’t bother me too much. I would rather kill it than have it wander around my house! But if Harrison is around, I have him do it 🙂 Also, since I got married, I NEVER drive anymore. Not when we’re together at least. It is just assumed that Harrison will drive. Why is that?

  4. Josh and Lar says:

    I absolutely HATE spiders. How can something so small be so scary!? I’m usually not a wimpy person, but when it comes to spiders I am a huge wimp!

  5. Bart says:

    There’s a big difference between saving someone else from a spider and being surprised by a spider yourself. It’s not nearly as big of a deal when you know before you walk into a room that there’s a spider on the wall that just needs to be killed.

    When you’re surprised by one, on the other hand, it automatically gets your blood pumping and your nerves tingling. I was riding my bike a few weeks ago and I looked down to find a huge black spider crawling across my hand. I almost crashed when I jerked my hand outward to propel it away. It definitely gave me the willies for the rest of the bike ride home.

    In summary, evenly the most manly of us can be wimpy when we’re caught off-guard. 🙂

  6. Marie says:

    I’m totally a wimp, but have three boys who are obsessed with anything that crawls. I’m always finding jars to hold their newly-caught treasure, praying that it doesn’t escape into my house. Oh the joys.

  7. TheMoncurs says:

    I swear bugs and creepy crawlies never used to really bother me but over the past couple of years I started having like..panic attacks over them. If I have to take something to our outside garbage can at night and I see geckos on the side of our house it takes me HOURS to stop shivering in horror. I haven’t seen a big spider in a while, which is good because I think I might pass out. Being a wimp is exhausting.


  8. Emily says:

    Um I got hyperventilating/sweaty just reading about that. Shiver. I’ll happily be called a wimp if I must, but I think it’s just part of being a girly girl! But I’ve been terrified of them since birth (maybe even in the womb!?!) so that aspect didn’t change upon getting married.

  9. megan says:

    Merrick, I realize this post was a while ago but I never commented and I wanted to so I am. (Do you make a lot more run-on sentences while blogging? I do.)

    So, I have always been a wimp in regard to spiders and things. I get that same sweaty, heart-racing fear. I hate spiders. Even little tiny ones (though they aren’t as scary). But, when we need to defend someone else, we can be a lot braver. Like when I was a teenager and I pulled back my sheets to get into bed… there was a huge jumping spider in my bed. I screamed and froze. My sister who is even more of a wimp than I am about them, came in my room, quickly analyzed the situation, grabbed a kleenex and killed the spider. She was a hero!

    Now I find myself trying hard not to let on to my kids that I am afraid. I clench my teeth and solve the problem, with my insides lurching, and the hair raised on my arms. I always hope they don’t notice. And when they see a bug or spider I always tell them (without thinking about it) the same thing my mom always said to us (even though I hated it): “Say hello to it.” Trying to stop the cycle, but as Bart said, even manly people can be caught off guard.

    P.S. I once saved Roger from a bat, which was much less scary than a spider. Ok, thanks. I’m done. Weeks late, sorry. Except one more thing…since I rarely comment, I better say it now. I am glad you moved from flickr and I will try to comment sometimes. bye

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