“Are you in the business of killing spiders?” Katie asked me.
“If you get me a tissue,” I said. “Where is it?”
“There. Above you on the wall.” She pointed. “It’s a hopping spider. Did you see that? It jumped.”
“Well, if you get me a tissue I’ll kill it,” I said.
About this moment I stopped paying attention. If Katie wanted me to kill the spider, she would have to get me a tissue. Otherwise, I was unconcerned. I continued reading Carissa’s blog.
“Oh! Oooh!” said Katie. I glanced up and saw her face all contorted and concerned, her eyes fixed on the wall above my head.
Again Katie said, “Oh!” Except this time the ‘oh’ was different. Less worrisome and fearful and more relieving.
Leslie started laughing and stopped breathing. Then Katie joined her. And they went at it, convulsively laughing like whoa as I sat on the couch, confused and hopeful that everything would be okay again soon.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
Once they were able to breathe again, they explained the situation.
“Katie was like, ‘Whoa! It’s a flying spider!’’ said Leslie. “‘This is not happening!’”
“Because it was my worst nightmare coming true!” said Katie. “Like the giant spider in The Lord of the Rings.”
“She didn’t realize that it was really a fly,” said Leslie.
“Only for a second.”
“You really freaked out.”
“No, I was laughing.”
“But that first, ‘Oh!’”
“Just one. Just the first split second, ‘Oh!’”
“But most people would’ve just been like, ‘Oh. It’s not a spider. It’s a fly.’”