I consider myself a fairly strong woman. I am a full time writer, I run the household, take care of the bills (and pretty much everything else), have given birth to two children and dealt with all the fun stuff that goes along with raising them. I got a masters degree when my children were still in diapers, I volunteer in their classes, I fight with the cable company and stand up for what I believe in and have been through more than I usually care to remember.
In essence, I’m a strong modern woman who can (and wants to) fight my own battles.
However…..I do have a weakness. A fairly major one…..
I hate spiders. Little ones, sure, I can deal with them. Mid-sized ones, I’ll freak out while killing them, but (if necessary) I can still go all Rambo on their eight-legged butts (I might have a minor breakdown afterwards, but still, I can deal…). Big ones…yeah, not going to happen. I was once trapped inside my house for almost an entire day because there was a HUGE spider on my doorbell. I mean that sucker covered THE ENTIRE BUTTON AND THE SURROUNDING AREA.
I only escaped because a neighbor came over to say hi and killed it for me
Which is why I am very grateful, in this day and age, to have found a dragon slayer. An honest-to-goodness knight in shining armor who comes running armed with newspaper, flyswatters, and once even a pellet gun in order to kill the eight legged beasts that plague me and my kingdom.
Case in point – Monday night. This man, without complaint, pulled over and made my daughter late for her Girl Scouts meeting so he could fight off my particular species of dragon. The massive (okay it was kind of small but it ALMOST TOUCHED ME) bugger was crawling down my window…and then started crawling down the door….INCHES from MY LEG.
My husband pulled his truck over (though it may have been more because he was laughing so hard he couldn’t see to drive than because he wanted to help me out because at that point I had removed my seat belt and had curled myself up on the center console and was making my way into his lap all the while screaming PULL OVER! PULL OVER! while probably dropping a few inappropriate words seeing as how my children were in the car (I can’t be sure about that, I’m still a bit traumatized)…who, by the way, were also laughing at me, the little traitors).
*ahem* In any case, he pulled the car over and saved the day
I’ve woken this poor man up in the middle of the night and at the crack of dawn; I’ve pulled him from chores and meetings and phone calls and interrupted all manner of daily tasks in order to slay my dragons. I get how ridiculous this is. I know I am much stronger and much bigger than “those who must not be named”, and I get that they are probably more scared of me than I am of them (doubtful actually, but that’s what people tell me).
But I am absolutely terrified of them. If you put one on me, I’d seriously shriek and cry and embarrass myself in a myriad of other ways that you probably don’t want me to get into So the fact that my husband selflessly rides in to my rescue on an often daily basis is something I don’t take lightly.
I might be an intelligent, strong, modern princess who can dang well fight my own battles and run my kingdom better than any prince, but even a girl like me needs a dragon slayer every so often
How about you?