I had a bag of garbage and a pizza box in the tub waiting for me to take it down to the dumpster. I was sitting on the toilet when one of those spiders peeked its head up from the top of the pizza box. Nothing is worse that seeing a big furry spider with your pants down. I stood up to look at the other side of box and he was gone. Oh no. Now he could be anywhere.
Later, I took the garbage and pizza box down to the dumpster without incident. I was using my best situational awareness. When I got back, my husband had gone to the bathroom and I saw a curled up spider corpse in the tub.
“Honey!” I exclaimed, “You left the dead body!” He told me that after he wrestled it to the ground he was too tired to get a piece of tissue and pick it up.
My husband felt something on his head. He reached up and brushed his head with his hand and his hand was covered with furry spider body parts. “They are pretty fragile.” he said. “I barely touched it.”
Yuck.
A couple hours later my husband directed my attention to one of the spiders walking around on the ceiling across from where he was sitting. “Will you kill it for me?” he asked. I said nothing about the fact that killing spiders really falls firmly in the things that men should have to do.
I gave it an honest logistical evaluation. Noting where the spider was located and the obstacles that presented themselves. Which way the body could fall once it was killed, or God forbid, it doesn't die on the first try and various places it could land on me and still be moving. The risk assessment was complete.
“Nope.” I stated without remorse. “Not doing it. Sorry babe.”
He sighed. “Guess I'll just keep an eye on it.”
Yep, I thought. You do that.
Hope you all have a spider free Tuesday.
