I tweeted about this, then I thought I better blog so I can tell the whole story. (How can a writer restrict themselves to 140 characters?)

A while ago I put my car in for a service. I think that’s when the spide climbed in. Two days later I was driving my teenage son to school when the son in the front seat said:

‘I hate to tell you this, Mum, but there’s a spider crawling up your arm.’ (Very dry, he is).

I looked down, and sure enough there was a great big huntsman spider at elbow height crawling up my arm. I was doing 100Ks on a back road but I did not swerve madly. I kept my cool and pulled over, even though my heart nearly leapt out of my throat.

As soon as I stopped the car, both my teenage sons jumped out and left me with the spider, which by now was on my shoulder. I unbuckled my seat beat, tore off my shirt and shook it outside the car. (Don’t worry I was wearing a man’s shirt to protect my arms from the sun while I drove). Needless to say, I did not put the shirt back on.

When it was safe, my brave boys climbed back into the car and I finished driving them around.

Two days later, I was driving my daughter to the shops after dark, telling her the story, when she suddenly stopped laughing and pointed to a corner of the front windscreen.

‘What’s that?’

‘I’m not falling for that,’ I told her.

But she wasn’t kidding.  The spider had been in the car for another two days. She was much braver than my teenage sons. She opened the door, while I grabbed the shirt and we put the spider out.

Which just goes to show you that the sterotype of women and spiders is not always accurate.