Just don't bite my ass and we'll be cool.
I hate bugs. A lot. Big, small, doesn't matter. I'm highly suspicious of them all, up to and including the illustrious lady bug. So you would think that the fact that there is a spider in my bathroom would be cause for distress.
Surprisingly I haven't killed it or called in the heavy artillery (aka Mike, the bug guy, with his Can Of Death). I just sit there and watch this little guy build his teeny tiny web. And then I wait with him, joining in the pondering of where the hell the other bugs are. He doesn't know that I've employed a man to spray toxic fumes into every nook and cranny of this house. So he picked a little corner close to the ground, maybe thinking he'd rack up some ants or something. But he got bupkis.
He walks around, inspecting his web with care. And every now and again he'll sprint up to the corner and stay really still. Maybe he's crazy and keeps thinking that he hears bug footsteps or something. It has me wondering how long he can go without any customers. Will he sit there until he starves to death, resulting in a spider skeleton right in time for Halloween or will he finally clue in that he picked a ridiculous spot for a web and move on to greener pastures? Or perhaps he'll just wait until I am no longer entertained by him at which point a trip down the toilet bowl would become imminent. It is a pretty tough call.
When I was a little kid in South Florida I saw a fat, scary looking spider crawling around on the floor. I ran to get my flip flops on and then enthusiastically jumped on it with my full body weight. Suddenly, and without any warning whatsoever, I might add, hundreds of tiny spiders came sprinting out from under my shoe and ran up my leg. If I could have found a knife in all the panic that ensued I'm certain that I would have cut my own leg off.
But I think that I'm going to let this little guy stay for a while, even after taking into account his close proximity to the toilet seat. There is something very unimposing about him. Like he's tipped his hat and stated in a sharp, British accent, "Pardon me, Miss. But if it wouldn't be too much of a bother I'll just skulk around here for a bit...I'll be no bother - none at all. Unless you might have a spot o tea to spare. That would be lovely."
My husband is going to think that I have some kind of intestinal malady, as much time as I've spent in there spying on my spider. I'm not sure which he would consider the less desirable activity. So let's keep it on the DL, ok??
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