Snowballing

I've just been listening to my son's worries.
Having to deal with the inflated egos of various people and trying to sort snow balling problems out in a way that suited everyone. Of course he sorted it as that is what he does, but I worry that he takes on too much with the role of pacifier.

As a child he was such a worrier, but nowadays he would make a brilliant counsellor with his calm and rational thinking if he wanted to retrain. He makes you feel safe when he is around.
Sometimes when I have been moaning about this one or that one, he'll look at me and I hear him saying what I used to say to him when he was growing up many years ago before I was a bitter and twisted old lady.
'Would you want to be treated like that?'
How the tables have reversed as we grow older. My mother has become my child and I am fast becoming his.

He popped round tonight for a cup of coffee while he was waiting to pick up his lady wife from work and to check up on me.
I felt quite worn out from listening to what he has to do at times and yet he always has time for his dad and me.
'So mother what have you got up to today?' he asked and I told him of my snowballing problems that were in a different league to his.

I explained to him how I woke up yesterday to the silhouette of a spider on my bedroom curtain and thought that it was just a little one again that had been magnified by the sunlight behind it... wrong.
It was a big bugger that fell somewhere behind my medicine box after I accidentally killed it while trying to get it into my spider catcher.
I don't want to hurt them, but I can't have them in the same room as me I'm afraid.

When I went to bed late last night and went to close my curtains, there was an even bigger one on the same curtain as the belated spider, who was obviously related to it. Only this one had a bigger body which was ribbed. Probably from where it had stashed it's knives and equally scary things... gawd it was ugly.
Trying to sneak up on this beast while wearing oxygen has it's problems, mainly catching your tubes on my bedstead.
My brass and iron bed is lovely, but moving around it is like an assault course and the 15' oxygen tubing that I drag behind me isn't beneficial to stealth.

The long and the short of this fiasco was; I caught the spider, my tubing got caught on the bed post, I dropped the spider catcher, the spider made a run for it on my bed sheets, I somehow captured the escapee spider, but by now my nose and ears had been pulled very painfully by the short length of trapped tubing. I then had to yank the nose specs off before I lost the spider again and then dispose of it in the garden. My breathing by this point was pretty painful as I was panicking somewhat and had no oxygen flow going into my lungs, so I was panicking even more.
If I had my heart rate monitored then, I think I would have been in trouble.
By the time I had calmed down, some horrible nasty had flown into my bedroom and landed on the ceiling. I tried to climb on my bed and tried to catch it. Alas I couldn't and I gave up, only to wake up to find a bite on my leg!

Was it as bad as my son's snowball, I don't think so, but he gave me a huge cuddle and told me well done anyway!

Lots of love Debbie x