Now, spiders and I have a fairly good relationship. I generally leave them be unless they're invading my space, like the one who decided to climb down the wall next to my leg while I was sitting on the toilet. I stomped him quickly with the hem of my jammies and when I left the bathroom, he looked like this:
When I returned to the bathroom an hour later to take a shower, he looked like this*:
How did he survive a stomping from my big feet? Well, he won't survive the next step in Laurie Ann's Spider Extermination Service. Placing a towel over my nose and mouth, I grabbed a small can of hair spray that came in a gift pack, which I can't use on account of my asthma but I keep around for just such occasions, and sprayed the evil beast 'til he was a sticky mess...and he STILL lived. I finally grabbed some toilet tissue and squished him but good, then flushed him.
There's another one in my bedroom, but he's tiny so I'll let him live...for now.
Yeah, Baby Yoda Sweater!
*truth be told, it was a Daddy Longlegs, but after its miraculous resurrection, it looked like that, I swear.
2 comments:
Dude, I was recently bitten by the teeniest spider but it hurt so much I thought I'd found a wasp in the bed. I am still paying the price of that bite.
Baby Yoda!!!!! I need to have a baby.
I had a dream about a spider bite - after I tried to rescue (i.e., capture and release) one from our apartment. I ended up squishing him (which I *hate* to do b/c I like the spiders) and felt completely guilt-ridden.
I guess that's something you can't identify with, huh?
Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice sweater!!
Post a Comment