This is not one of the spiders from my bathroom. This one is an outside spider that wasn't bothering anybody but it's the only spider picture I've got so he's got to do.
This morning is one of those 'that's good/that's bad' mornings. I had a horrendous dream that woke me up, something about my children being very ill and very badly behaved on top of it. Doesn't sound too bad does it? Trust me, it was. It involved vomitting. Who the hell dreams about vomitting? That just sucks. So, that was bad.
When I woke up I saw that it was pouring rain outside, that's good.
I went in to take a shower and there were spiders in my sink! Spiders! Note the plural. There were two spiders. An itsy bitsy one dangling below my faucet and a largish (bigger than a quarter) hairy black jumping one sitting on the back of the sink.
What the hell?!
I do not want to deal with spiders in my sink at 6:27 in the morning.
So I told Scott that were spiders in the sink. He didn't care. He just stayed in bed. Great. Now I have to retrain him. A man's job is to go kill the spiders. It's not like I'm asking him to go outside and kill a bear or fight off an invading army of savages before breakfast. (Keeping in mind that their wives told them to go kill the squatting savages before breakfast. We are always politically correct here at Crunchy Bits. Except when we're not.)
I, on the other hand, do not do the bug killing thing. I can't handle the whole crunchy squishyness of it. I went into the kitchen to get a cup and a piece of paper. My grand plan was to scoop the spiders into the cup, cover the paper so it wouldn't jump out and kill me, and throw them outside. Into the rain. I figured if they are in bathroom they like water and there for they will like being in the rain.
Itsy Bitsy spider of the water spout fame did okay with it, right? Went right back up that spout again. Then I stopped and thought about things for a moment. What if the big spider was hunting the little spider and if I put them in a cup together the big spider will be happy but the little spider will be dead and it will all be my fault. I can't have that kind of guilt on a wonderful rainy morning. I thought it through and decided I could live with the little spider and definitely could not live with the big spider so I would get rid of that one first and then come back for the little one, and if it had been scared off I would be okay with that.
I walked into the bathroom and realized that it was now a moot point. Big, hairy, awful spider was gone. Itty, bitty, non-offensive spider was still there, though. I scooped him up in the cup and deposited him on the deck. Waving his little tiny arms in distress he took off for points unknown dodging the huge rain drops crashing down around him. I decided it was good for him, every one needs a little excitement now and again.
I went back to my bathroom and looked for the spider. No spider. This is what we would call a 'not good' situation.
I took my shower but, believe me, everything was shaken quite well before it came near my body.
Now, I can't rest easy until I know that spider has been taken care of, so...any volunteers?