You think your life is bad? Consider me.

I’m a daddy longlegs with no legs. That’s right, no legs. A Daddy No Legs.

Here’s my story:

I’m creeping around one day, minding my own business, when I run into some kids.

“AAAAAAAAHH!!!” they scream. “A spider!!!!!!”

For the record, daddy longlegs aren’t even spiders, and these kids are carrying on like I’m a tarantula.

Then a boy picks me up by one of my legs and says, “You think you’re scary, don’t you?”

So, I’m like, “You’re the one who’s like a thousand times bigger than me. Let me go.”

But, noooo, he takes things to the next level and pulls out one of my legs.

“Coooool,” he says, gawking at the leg. “It’s still moving.”

I’m thinking, not the end of the world, I’ve got seven more.

So I say to the boy, “OK, fun’s over, now put me down!”

Pluck, pluck, pluck, pluck.

Great, now I’m down to three legs. No biggee. My Uncle Gimpy has three legs, and he hobbles about just fine.

Pluck, pluck.

I’m down to one. I plead, “Come on, kid, spare me a leg, just one leg to drag my poor body around.”

Pluck.

And just like that, I’m legless.

Then boy hero holds me up real close to his face and says, “Wow, you’re even uglier without your legs!”

And I’m like, “Gee thanks, kid. I hope Mother Nature gives you the spanking you deserve.”

Then the kid flicks me in the air, like I’m a booger.

Now I’m flying through the air, wind in my face, thinking this airborne thing feels pretty good. Then a thought hits me: I’ve got no legs! How’m I gonna break my fall?!?!

That, my friends, is where dog poop comes in. I land – splat! – right in the middle of a pile of poop. It’s still warm even.

Lovely. I’m lying in poop with no legs to pull myself out.

I’ve got nothing better to do, so I figure I’ll take a nap. The poop is nice and warm, and things always look better after a nap.

No sooner do I fall asleep, though, that I’m rudely awakened. It appears my poop bed has turned into a poop ball, and it’s being rolled away, courtesy of a dung beetle. In between bumps and thumps I yell at the beetle to stop, but the bonehead can’t hear me.

Finally he stops pushing the poop. He has no choice - he’s blocked by this long line of ants. I yell as loudly as I can, and dung bug finally hears me. He looks at me, smashed as I am into the side of his poop ball, and says, “What in the name of manure are you?”

“A daddy longlegs!”

“Yeah sure, Pops, and I’m a beautiful butterfly,” he says.

Meanwhile, he gets tired of waiting for the ant line to end, so he digs me out of his poop ball and rolls it away.

I’m lying on my back for all of ten seconds, dizzy and smelly, when a bunch of ants pick me up and carry me into their line.

I yell, “Put me down, you mindless twits!!” But all the ants say is, “Tok, tok, tok, tok, tok, tok...”

“I want to see your manager!!!!!”

“Tok, tok, tok, tok, tok, tok....”

But they do take me to see their manager, into their nest, through a maze of dark tunnels, and finally to her royal highness, Queen Ant.

She looks at me and says, “Well?”

And I say, “Well?”

“Well, aren’t you going to bow?”

“Hello! I have no legs. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BOW?!”

I’m waiting for her to scream, “Off with his head!” But instead she says, “Tell me about it. I mean, I have legs, but I’m so fat I can’t even see them.”

And I say “Thank you!” It’s like the first time anyone has felt sorry for me.

Then she proclaims, “Volleyball!”

“Volleyball?”

“Volleyball! Volleyball!” cheer the ants.

Next thing I know, I’m being schlepped out of the ant hill for a volleyball match – soldier ants vs. workers ants. They even let me play... as the ball!!

I’m served, I’m spiked, I’m pummeled. Then one soldier ant whacks me so hard I sail through the air, and I don’t want to come down.

And I don’t come down! I’m stuck midair, entangled in a spider web, staring at the largest, meanest-looking spider I’ve ever seen.

“There’s been a terrible mistake,” I say to the spider. “I don’t belong here.”

“Honey, they all say that,” she says.

So I say, “But I’m a daddy longlegs. You wouldn’t eat a fellow spider, would ya?”

“I ate my husband, sweetie. I think I can stomach you,” she tells me. “Besides, daddy longlegs aren’t spiders.”

She makes excellent points, this one.

Then she says, “Why don’t you settle in? I’ll take a nap. When I wake up, I’ll eat you.”

Fantastic. I’m about to be eaten, and I don’t even have a pencil and paper to write down my last will and testament. Not that it would matter. I have no earthly possessions. Oh... AND I HAVE NO LEGS TO WRITE WITH!!!!!

Then I hear buzzing and see this huge dragonfly coming straight for me. I yell, “Turn around, you big idiot, abort mission!”

I try to wave my legs at him, but, well, you know...

Anyhow, the oversized moron flies right into the web, missing me by a millimeter, and gets his nose good ‘n stuck in the web.

“What are you blind?” I say to him.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” he says, and sure enough, the poor dolt is blind as a bat.

Meanwhile, Missus I-Ate-my-Hubby has awoken from her beauty sleep and is looking pretty hungry.

“You’re about to be eaten by a spider,” I inform the dragonfly.

“Then get me out of here,” he says.

“Only if you take me with you.”

So we work it out. I bite his nose free from the web, and he yanks me out with his mouth. Then we whiz off together, just in the nick of time.

That was yesterday.

Today I’m resting on a leaf, up in some tree, munching on a gnat. The dragonfly is taking a nap. When he wakes up, we’ll go hunting. I ride on his head and give him directions, and he catches us food. It’s a good gig.

I guess my life isn’t half bad, after all.