MY WIFE IS A MURDERER
and I am “ascared”
# 45…………………Penpal answer to # 44 ….this is from Jim to Love
What a privilege it is for me to write to you this rainy Sunday morning.
The only thing that would be better is if I could knock on your door right now. If so, could I have a hug and a cup of Folgers and some carrot sticks. I would have to teleport , because I don’t know where you live. Of course I would bring Joan and she would want to hug and she would want to talk to you about girl things. Eventually I would pry you two apart and send her off to talk to your guy, so you and me could be alone to commiserate and become even better partners in crime.
I can’t tell you how delighted I was, to read every bit of your penpal letter to me, which was number 44. That letter was in three parts and each part was a delight. But the last part showed me what kind of a rascal you are.
Yes I hate to start calling you names, but if the foo shits, wear it. I think it’s the funniest thing in the world that I have a pet jumping spider that my wife knows nothing about. I love it that you are teasing me about it. You are teasing me a bit by writing what you wrote in penpal letter number 44 part three of three. You are an amazing poet and you wrote a wonderful poem called “Lulu and the Jumping Spiders”. This hilarious mischievous poem which pays homage to my secret jumping spider was a pure delight. As I read every hilarious stanza, I had to go over to Joan and Pat her on the head to calm her. I am the “Joan Whisperer “..
She is terrified of spiders since one successfully laid eggs in her arm one night. Women are so fussy don’t you think?
Anyway, so I read 44 again and, the whole poem and it was absolutely hilarious and every bit as well-written as the classic — “The Night Before Christmas “. We could call this one, “ The Nightmare Before Christmas”, but that name has already been taken. I especially enjoyed the picture you drew of the guy at the kitchen table with spiders all over the table and all over the whole kitchen. It’s not quite that bad yet Genevieve. It’s only a baby and doesn’t take two spiders to make babies. I don’t know much about it. I don’t know nothing about birthin’ no spiders. OMG-I would love to see two jumping spiders going at it………..
Come to think of it how could I possibly go to hell for raising a jumping spider right in front of her right next to the microwave. I found the jumping spider on the counter in the first place. I couldn’t believe my luck. Right there on the kitchen counter was a baby jumping spider. If I get caught, I’ll just say he was on the counter in the first place, you should thank me for putting him inside of a jar. But she will just say, I would kill them on the counter and I’m going to kill him in the jar too……………… kill, kill, kill . that’s all she wants to do.
We’ve all been witness to the prejudices that people have. Many people are species-ists. It shames me to admit it, but I married a species-ist.
I the last thing you wrote, penpal letter number 44 — part three of three. The one you wrote to tease the crap out of me because you know that my wife hates spiders (and I have a pet spider) .
You also know that I’ve been keeping one right next to the microwave unbeknownst to her. It is a baby jumping spider and he is so cute. I tried to find some aphids but I couldn’t. I forgot about the backyard burglar alarm. when I went outside hunt aphids in the middle of the night. When I came back in there was Joan standing there with her hands on her hips at 5 o’clock in the morning saying “Watcha doin’ ?”. She had a certain tone in her voice sort of said she’s trying to be sweet and cute but she might be a little bit annoyed by being woke up in the middle of the night after four hours of sleep. So petty, right ?
Well I had some explaining to do and I came up with a cock and bull story.
I actuall have a phd in Bovine Scatology. I hope you don’t think I was gonna say to her, “I was looking for dinner in the middle of the night for my little jumping spider that you know nothing about”………… I mean, I’m not stuuuuupid. (With a cockney accent)
She told me on certain terms she will not stand to have the spider being raised in the house as a pet. She has a phobia against spiders and she sees one she has to kill it. — Kill kill kill .
I am thoroughly ashamed of the fact that my wife would be a murderer of my sweet little tiny friend. So, I only have one choice. House the little guy in secret right under her nose. What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.
This morning at 3 AM I saw three raccoons practically doing the bossa nova in front of my security camera. I thought to myself I could probably go out there with a blanket in jump one of them little guys and when I took the blanket off, I would have lots of fleas to feed my spider. Then I thought, naaaaa — — would be my luck that one of the fleas would decide to bite me and I would get something ugly. I think I’m going to order a banana.
Bananas create fruit flies and spiders love fruit flies. I’m going to keep this a secret as long as I can, but I don’t think I can get away with this very much longer because she’s got to start asking questions. Why are women always so suspicious when guys are sneaking around. It’s almost like they have secret powers like the Shadow.
You have the power over me Love. you have a mighty sword because you know about my secret , and you know that at any moment you could tell Joan my secret. Women readily tell secrets about men to one another. But the longer you resist telling my wife about my secret spider, I will know that you like me better than Joan. Oh my God though, what happens if she finds out that you knew about the spider and didn’t tell her thus breaking the woman code. I mean if she’s prepared to kill my spider, there’s no telling what she might do. This whole thing is getting terrifying. So terrifying that I decided it just ain’t worth it. I really really don’t want to have to sleep in the garage with my spider. I think he died anyway so I put his poor little body in an outside houseplant. I think I hear the sound of taps being played off in the distance.
