Last night as I lay in bed reading, a spider decided to climb up on the curtain rod on the window. My spidey senses were tingling and I got a chair and the fly swatter and made ready.
I actually made that sound. I wish I was joking. I was on the phone with mom at the time, since my spider savior Andrew is TDY right now and couldn't sweep in with his white fly swatter...um. I had to take care of it myself. The battle cry that ensued, for courage, of course set my mom to laughing.
At least the spider was dead. I left it's curled up dead body on the floor under the window. I'd get it in the morning, when it'd had time to think about what it'd done. From bed I could see it's body, exactly where it fell. All was good.
It was a pretty good size, about the size of a honey bee. I feel the comparison is necessary because my mom often claims I'm over exaggerating when it comes to spider sizes. Honestly, there is no basis for her distrust. : /
Fast forward to six hours later and it's time for me to get up. My eyes dart to the spot under the window where the carcass of an evil spider lay the night before. Nothing...no dead spider.
After discussing this, rationally, with my mom. We've come to two conclusions:
1) It wasn't dead. This particular spider has excellent ninja skills and faked it. Presumably, he is now on the hunt for my flesh in order to seek revenge.
2) Something else came to finish him off. Not a good prospect either considering a spider bigger than a honey bee is wandering through the house and being all cannibalistic.
So, as you see, neither of these outcomes are good. Until Andrew is back, I fear I might be some sort of target for spider revenge. Ohgoshpleasehelpme.