Cows! I hate cows worse than coppers!*

Today I saved my dad's life...okay, okay - in all reality I only caused him to get a muddy bum. Here's how it went down.

My dad and I made plans to get up bright and early and take down the filtration system in my backyard. No longer having a well = no need for this big, heavy, eyesore in the backyard. I thought it would be easy. Get the truck, cut the filtration chords, go to the dump, return the truck, job well done. Let's eat.

First Wrench - I slept until 8:30 coupled with Dad making waffles at his house at 8:30. We are already 30 minutes behind on our tentative schedule.

Second Wrench - Dad's got three kids (four if you count Sam asleep in her room) all by himself.

Third Wrench - Dad's got to make two trips because he's got to go back and get Sam before 11.

Fourth Wrench - We turn off the power and water to the filtration system and then realize that the water still comes up through the pipes, through the filtration system, back under the house. We can't just remove the filtration system, we have to figure out how connected it is and then fix it.

So we (and by 'we' at any point in this entry I mean my dad - but I watched...most of the time) start sawing PVC pipe and taking down the Rubbermaid shed that held the filtration system. I ran to Lowe's and picked up some PVC elbows and exterior electrical boxes (don't I sound handy?!)

I did have a good idea though. After we (dad) removed the Rubbermaid shed there was a large patch of mud right where we (dad) would need to kneel. I looked at the fence gate I took down a few months ago and said, "How about a piece of fence?" Genius Jessica. Insert "Dad Praise" here. He puts the wood down and sits, getting to work.

That's when it happened, this muddy bum business (MBB). I was standing behind Dad when I something large and black caught my eye five feet eleven inches below. A FREAKING HUGE SPIDER! The size of the spider didn't bother me as much as the sheer size of its bum did (I later explained to Dad that this is what the kids today mean when they say "junk in the trunk" - instead of actually having junk in their car trunk like dad did).

"Dad," I cried out in code red panic, my finger pointing towards the spider but at the same time my arm itching to get further away. I wondered how high that spider might be able to jump. "Oh Dad, spider." (Yes - college graduate here, and worth every penny). "Dadddddddd, Spiderrrr!" I cry out, pointing as the spider lifts one of its shiny black legs towards Dad's shirt, I stood mortified, afraid that if the spider made its way on to Dad's shirt I would have to act...and acting meant in some form or fashion touching the spider. Whether with the flick of a finger, kicking with my shoe, or grabbing a stick...somehow I would come in contact. I needed Dad removed from this situation and I need it done RIGHT THEN!

At this point Dad is trying to move but he doesn't know exactly where the spider is, his college graduate daughter is broken and can't even think fast enough to tell him whether it's to the right or to the left. He feels his life is in peril by the sound of my voice, he senses the urgency of the moment. I watch in horror as his hand begin to move right, then left, hovering in the air, ready to land at any moment...his right hand is just above the spider. I can't have him touching the spider - I might throw up. I can't get the words though, sounds like, "Uh, um, er," spill out of my mouth like some "hot and cold" game. In the mess of it Dad's hands or feet or possible both slip. His back end comes off the fence and lands on the muddy ground, while I am happy to report, his hands land away from the spider.

"Sorry," I say as I watch the spider, still pointing.

Dad picks up a shovel and scoops up the spider, tossing him further away from me. Because he is such a good Dad he doesn't let the spider off the hook (knowing I will not be able to sleep if he lives - I've been traumatized by the size of that spider's butt). He takes the shovel and cuts the spider in half. Let that be a lesson to any boy who tries to mess with me...my dad will cut you in half...maybe, if not, my brother-in-law will.

So that is the story of the soggy bottom dad.