I would like to take this opportunity to make a confession: It turns out I am not nearly as tough as I thought I was.

34+ hours of labor and emergency C-section? I can handle that. Unmedicated until 9cm VBAC? Got that too (times two). Surviving bleeding nipples? I’m ya gal!

But a huntsman spider?

NOPE, NO WAY, NO HOW, NOT TODAY, NOT TOMORROW, NOT EVER.

Why, you ask? Because this:

This is a huntsman spider.

So, we clear now, yes?

Now I want you to imagine having this be one of the first images that greets you when you stumble, sleepy-eyed at 7:30am, from your bedroom to the kitchen with three young children padding along behind you.

Please tell me you are just like me, and rather than approach the situation with any smidgen of composure or decor, you instead yell, “HOLY CRAP!” and run into the kitchen.

And then please tell me that–just like me–you also do the following:

1. Make an emergency call to not one but two of your neighbors, begging them to send over their husbands, because yours is already at work and you are shamelessly desperatefor someone to take on this creature on your behalf.
2. Take a Tupperware container and go after said creature, to “trap it.” (You think this is a good idea because, well, who knows why.)
3. Scream ACTUAL BLOODY MURDER from the other end of the house when the damn spider proves to be too fast for you.
4. Get the chills because you are soverygrossedout (and realize what a cliche you are for being scared of spiders).
5. Mange to partially trap spider with the Tupperware, but only after emitting a scream so piercing that your kids scream from the other end of the house with no small amount of fear, “What’s wroooooong, Mom?!”
6. Tell them you are trying to trap a “giant spider,” then immediately realize the error of your ways when one of your kids actually starts crying.
7. Hear with relief as your five-year-old signs off on your decision to terminate The Beast.
8. Feel kinda bad immediately afterward because then your three-year-old reveals you for the fiend you are by saying in the sweetest possible voice, “Mommy, why don’t we be its friend?”
9. Briefly consider your daughter’s idea to not slaughter the spider.
10. Immediately decide against it and go back to your original plan.
11. Finally hear a knock at the door and realize that no, it’s not a man who’s here to save the day, it’s your girlfriend.
12. Be impressed at her bravery and overall badass-ery and show her to your partially-trapped arachnid non-friend.
13. Proceed to watch as she kicks its ass.

So… yeah. That was my morning.

Lesson? Girls aren’t scared of spiders. They’re American heroes. Except if you’re me. Then, you’re a big baby.