The Terror of a Plushie

Twas the night before Halloween, when all through the house

not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

except my husband, who tiptoed outside with care,

putting a surprise in my car with much gusto and flair.

I was nestled all snug up in my bed

while visions of beachfront danced through my head.

And my husband in his nightshirt, with me in my cap

finally snuck to bed for the remaining night’s nap.

Then in the morning there arose such a clatter

my husband sprang from the bed to see what’s the matter.

Away from my car I flew like a flash 

from the plush spider wrapped inside so brash.

Its bendy legs hooked around the steering wheel so tight;

the arachnid’s red eyes gave me quite a fright.

Then what to my annoyed eyes did appear

but my husband laughing hysterically like it’d been planned all year.

“Happy Halloween!” He said dripping with cheer.


Epilogue: That spider went to live with a friend whose daughter was madly in love with Halloween decorations. My husband tried to ask for it back, but she told him it was for his own good that she kept it.

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