Cooped Up? Get Uncooped.

When I was a kid, I would run shrieking from the room if I saw an ant. Seriously. I'm not quite that bad anymore, but I still have to stifle the urge to issue little squeaky noises of horror, disgust, and terror when I see a spider indoors. When I'm outdoors, though, they don't bother me at all. What gives?

I think it has something to do with place. Spiders and other creepy crawly things, in my mind, belong outdoors. They are associated with being outside. When I spot a gigantic spider like the one below perched menacingly on his gigantic web under the light of a full moon, I run away, catch a big moth, and then run back and throw the moth into the web just to see what will happen.* I stand with my face inches from the web, watching. 

Put Mr. Gigantic Spider on my bedroom wall, though, and you'd get a very different reaction.   

True confession: leeches gross me out no matter where I encounter them.

 Another true confession: a leech gave birth on my friend's leg once. It was just as gross as it sounds. She was covered in tiny squirming maggotlike leech babies. Luckily, she is not the easily-squicked-out type.

*What happens when you throw a giant moth into the web of a giant spider? It's freaking sweet. The giant spider attacks the giant moth and wraps it in silk like a mummy in a matter of seconds. Then the giant moth struggles partially out of its bonds, at which point the giant spider -I am not making this up- MAKES A LEASH OUT OF SILK AND TIES THE MOTH'S LEGS TO THE WEB SO IT CAN FLUTTER ALL IT WANTS BUT IT WILL NEVER ESCAPE. That spider scared me. I'm pretty sure it could have eaten a bat. 

• leeches
• ticks
• spiders
• creepy
• crawlies
• camping
• woods
• forest
• outdoors