This morning, as I got out of the shower, I saw a little black dot hanging just above the hand towels. I didn’t have my contacts in, so I had to stare at it a moment to figure out what I was looking at.
Then it slowly descended until it was hidden behind the pink hand towel. Ugh.
“Ethan? … I’m naked and afraid! Will you come kill a spider?”
I peered behind the hand towel to see if it was hiding in the soft fluffiness. Strangely, it wasn’t. It was still just hanging there, hiding. Lets all curled inward, holding still. You can’t see me if I don’t move, it said. I disagreed.
And then it started stretching, one leg at a time – and I got all creeped out and had to leave the room. This spider was about as big as my face.
Well, not really. More like, as big as a quarter – but on a technicality, that makes him as big as George Washington’s face. Point is, it was spindly, black, big, and creepy.
One husband, two shoes and some clever spider-mashing later, it is dead. Good riddance. Happy April Fools day, creeper. Nice try. Flush. ♦