It was your typical Saturday afternoon when I woke up. Stretch yawn - off to the kitchen to find some breakfast before checking an email, swapping some chats and then off to my sister's. Or So I thought...
Mm, I love apples. I picked one off the cupboard counter, looked for holes and plucked the stem out, it was the perfect apple in the bunch left on the counter a day ago. I washed it and after few bites as I sat down at my desk, I noticed that it tasted HORRIBLE. I stopped chewing, glanced at the apple and noticed it was a sickly, nasty brown so I, being no type to eat like a goat, went and spat out my mouthful into the garbage can. First wise move. Then I thought again, once again back at my desk, "You know, mom's going to be mad if I throw good food away... why not cut it up for the chickens?"
DUH! Should have left it... anyways, I plucked the apple out of the garbage, picked up a butter knife and over to the sink I go. Since my lovely knife was as dull as a certain person's brain skills at the time, I began to cut open the apple. But the knife only got half way. Not so surprising says I, until I pick the apple up, and split it open in my hands...
Out jumps this BIG brown spider, INTO my sink where it begins to crawl around like mad! So I throw the apple halves at it, as it starts to climb it's way up the side of the sink. By now, I'm screaming, shaking and jumping around the kitchen like a whack job... I try to gather my wits and get a cup of water to pour on it. The stubborn thing just won't die! The phone rings, Hello, it's mom...
And finally spidey goes down the drain, and I make a note to myself that I will never think of apples the same way again. (And I didn't eat the rest of those apples for the next two weeks, and not unless they were quartered and washed VERY well!) Mom would have never have believed me...
