How would you react if this was waiting for you on a door handle?

It was the biggest f*cking thing I have ever seen.

Hairy. Eight long legs. Silent. Still.

Waiting. For. Me.

I don’t know what kind it was. I don’t really care. It was so big I could see its eyes.

I don’t use the word ‘hate’ much, but I hate spiders.

Especially ones that are waiting for me on the door handle.

From afar it would have looked like I had been electrocuted. I jumped back a mile. A girly scream may or may not have accompanied it.

I picked up what was left of my self-respect and called my boys. They needed to be aware of the dangers. This was to be a teaching experience.

They came running. The mixture of a loud thud, a high pitched cry from their dad followed by a very deep gravelly call out to come to me as I returned my voice to the manly pitch it should have been had their interest piqued.

I grabbed the nearest long implement from the laundry for protection.

“Stand back,” I said as I held out a shielding arm with one hand. A feather duster in the other.

“This thing could be dangerous.”

“Oh my god,” said Zak. “It’s huge!”

Max started moving towards it to get a closer look. I sprung forward, half tackling him away from the beast.

“Stay back! Stay back! Are you mad?” I exclaimed while pointing my feather duster menacingly at the poised arachnid.

He starts to laugh.

“There is nothing funny about this situation,” I state.

“Look how big this motherfu-” I stop myself in time. ”… this creature is. You must never touch something like this. Always call your mum – I mean an adult.”

“It’s not real”

Rob Harris is not a fan of spiders in any form. Not even spiderman.

“Eh. What?”

“It’s not real. I got it at a party”. Max grinned. “Pranked you!”

I wasn’t sure whether to believe him. It would not have been the first time my boys have tried to prank me.

As far as I was concerned this thing was real. Until the police arrived to give the all clear no-one was going near it.

My 7-year-old was pushing hard against me to get to the spider.

“Okay. Okay, hang on, I will double check. I’m going in.” I said

I shuffled slowly towards the door handle. The hairy brown huntsman eyeballing me. Feather duster at the ready I got within touching distance.

Then Max screamed a blood curdling scream. For no reason.

I may have soiled myself a little.

I turn around and the two of them are pissing themselves laughing at me.

I continue my quest even less composed than I was. I nudge the spider off the handle and it falls to the ground with a dull plastic thud and bounces onto its back. Motionless and still in the same position I nudge it with my toes. Nothing. I move in for the touch. It is hairy. These things are so real these days. But it is fake. A novelty item.

I look at the two of them as Zak picks it up and puts it in his pocket, and I promise them that revenge will be sweet.

Every few days I find that bloody spider on my chair, under my book, on the toilet seat.

So I’m off to the shops to buy a snake that will just tickle their toes as they jump into bed.

But I know they will find it and without saying a word leave it for me under my pillow.

Sometimes I bring these things on myself.

Do you have a phobia? Spiders? Snakes? Worse?