So this morning, I had the pleasure of showering with one eye open.
See, usually when I shower, I close my eyes for things like rinsing shampoo/conditioner, or using my face scrub. But today, I showered with one eye open.
And that would be because when I picked up my conditioner bottle, a spider scampered out from under and huddled in the corner of the ledge of the tub. Ugh...
I'm not a big fan of killing anything. I don't find pleasure on lighting ants on fire with magnifying glass, or pulling the light out of a lightning bug and using is as jewelry. I spend way too much time trying to coax a trapped fly out the door and with bees, I usually resort to the "empty glass to trap a bee" trick - you know, where you trap a bee in a glass, then carefully slide a paper plate (usually) under the edge of the glass, then releasing the bee back out in the wild.
I figure - All creatures great and small.
Except spiders. And centipedes. But this morning, it was a spider.
Usually when I see a spider, my first instinct is to find someone else to kill it. Of course, there's never a spider around when there's someone else available to squash it. In that case, there are several scenarios:
a) Get out the vacuum cleaner and suck it up (of course, then I have to have someone change the bag for me, you know, just in case the spider survives the traumatic trip through the vacuum cleaner rollers
b) Step on it, but only if I'm wearing shoes with like 4 inch soles. Then, suck up the poor, tangled puddle of spider remaining with the aforementioned vacuum
c) If all else fails, take a (gigantic) wad of paper towel, toilet paper, or if all else is unavailable, Kleenex, and squash the dang thing.
This usually involves:
See, usually when I shower, I close my eyes for things like rinsing shampoo/conditioner, or using my face scrub. But today, I showered with one eye open.
And that would be because when I picked up my conditioner bottle, a spider scampered out from under and huddled in the corner of the ledge of the tub. Ugh...
I'm not a big fan of killing anything. I don't find pleasure on lighting ants on fire with magnifying glass, or pulling the light out of a lightning bug and using is as jewelry. I spend way too much time trying to coax a trapped fly out the door and with bees, I usually resort to the "empty glass to trap a bee" trick - you know, where you trap a bee in a glass, then carefully slide a paper plate (usually) under the edge of the glass, then releasing the bee back out in the wild.
I figure - All creatures great and small.
Except spiders. And centipedes. But this morning, it was a spider.
Usually when I see a spider, my first instinct is to find someone else to kill it. Of course, there's never a spider around when there's someone else available to squash it. In that case, there are several scenarios:
a) Get out the vacuum cleaner and suck it up (of course, then I have to have someone change the bag for me, you know, just in case the spider survives the traumatic trip through the vacuum cleaner rollers
b) Step on it, but only if I'm wearing shoes with like 4 inch soles. Then, suck up the poor, tangled puddle of spider remaining with the aforementioned vacuum
c) If all else fails, take a (gigantic) wad of paper towel, toilet paper, or if all else is unavailable, Kleenex, and squash the dang thing.
This usually involves:
- a lot of prep time
- some emotional build up
- a self-motivating speech
- more emotional build up
- a reminder that I am in fact 32 years old and should be able to handle this
- a little self-loathing over the fact that I'm 32 and single, with no kids before quickly reminding myself that this isn't the time for a pity party
- a moment when I think it would just be easier to move to a different house
- and finally...the squash.
- some emotional build up
- a self-motivating speech
- more emotional build up
- a reminder that I am in fact 32 years old and should be able to handle this
- a little self-loathing over the fact that I'm 32 and single, with no kids before quickly reminding myself that this isn't the time for a pity party
- a moment when I think it would just be easier to move to a different house
- and finally...the squash.
Which is then followed by:
* balling up the tissue as soon as possible so I don't have to look at anything
* a race to the trash can, arm completely outstretched
* deposit in trash can (I could just flush it down the toilet, but as I said before...Gigantic wad of paper towel/toilet paper)
* my "Ewwww" dance where I thrash all my limbs about to remove any remaining spider cooties that may have escaped the gigantic wad of paper towel
If the spider has managed to find a resting place I can't reach (such as the vaulted ceiling in my bedroom), then I'm tormented all night with thoughts of where the spider might be and at what point he might touch me. Please don't bring up the statistic about how many spiders/bugs we swallow a year...just...don't.
My old solution to this problem was to sleep with the covers over my head. That no longer works because my dog insist on unburying me. I know he thinks he's doing me a favor, but really...he's not.
This morning, though, I got lucky. After my shower, I was able to aim the shower head at the spider and then wash him down the drain. No "thrashing about to remove spider cooties" required.
Course, now I'll lie in bed tonight, tormented with the thought that he had a lot of friends and family and they're coming for me...
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