You know, spiders are sort of cool. I don't mind them really, as they build their webs on our front porch and invade every spare space outside when the fall weather comes. I'd even invite them to my house for Halloween to join in on the whole "Spider Farm" theme. I just have one rule.
They must stay OUT side.
There's something about a quick leggy little thing; maybe it's the past trauma of one falling down my bra, or the horror of finding large hairy ones in the sink in the morning, but I do NOT like spiders in my house. Ever.
When one is located, I call for Jake to round it up and set it free outside, lest I get the murderous urge to squish that poor sucker into the carpet.
Hubs complains that's why we have so much rain.
This morning as I showered, I looked up, and as fuzzy as things are without my glasses, this was unmistakable. Long, spindly legs. The color of caramel, yet much less inviting. Right smack above the shower head.
I couldn't take my eyes off it. Will it drop down on my head? Stay put? The thought of a spider on me, in the shower, just wasn't going over well. It was too far away to try to squish.
Can't call Jake, that's for sure.
I shampooed with one eye on the spider, conditioned, and thought I'd be successful until...
The soap fell out of my hand and for seconds, I looked away. When I looked back, it was GONE.
My eyes widened and all the possibilities began running through my head.
In my hair?
On my back?
.....Lemme get out of this shower as fast as......
Do YOU have a spider story?