It was a dark and stormy night.
Really, it was. It was Wednesday night and storms were rolling through the area. Not that the weather has anything to do with this incident, but it sets the tone, don't you think?
I was up late, having stayed up past my bedtime to watch Top Chef. Everyone else was asleep. After the "please pack your knives and go" I went upstairs to get ready for bed.
That's when it happened.
I, innocently, walked into the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth.
It was there. Lying in wait.
An enormous spider. Fist sized (okay, maybe a small fist, but a fist nonetheless). The biggest spider I've ever seen up close.
And he was looking at me.
I kind of did the little shimmy shiver of fear. Because I knew it had to go.
And I knew I had to be the one to make it go.
I considered trapping him under a cup, letting him go outside. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it. What if he escaped from under the cup? In the house? And I knew he was in here. Roaming around. Lying in wait. Waiting for me to innocently, oh I don't know, brush my teeth.
No, he had to go.
As in, go to the big web in the sky.
So I unrolled toilet paper until I had a wad big enough to a) cover all parts of my hand b) ensure that I would not feel any squishing at all and c) would all but guarantee a three inch separation between me and the arachnid in question at all times.
Then I stealthily approached where he was perched on the wall. He looked smug. I think he could tell how scared I was.
I made a jab for him. He saw me coming and dropped to the ground.
I did a jiggity dance backward, squealing softly (as to not wake anyone). He landed on the floor and charged toward me.
Okay. I never realized how fast spiders can run. He was FAST. Land speed records may have been broken. Either by the spider coming after me, or by me retreating. I'm not sure.
I jigged and squealed and failed miserably at jabbing the floor in attempts to catch it off guard. The spider zigged, zagged. I jigged, jabbed.
Finally, the toilet paper made contact and a second later, with the reassuring sound of a flush--he was gone.
Me? I was now wide awake. The hair on my arms stood on end for a good two minutes. I couldn't stop the shivers. It was...ugh. Never, ever want to do that again.
And really, I'm a peace loving kind of girl at heart, but (hello, PETA people) this was self-defense. It really was.
It took awhile to fall asleep that night. Thoughts of whether the spider had a family (this wasn't so much about guilt as it was wondering if there were other eight-legged terrors lurking nearby) and how he'd gotten in and whether all that toilet paper was going to clog the toilet...
Two days later, I'm still kind of worried, but I'm trying to live in denial. Denial is a good place. I like it.
Have you had any crittery run-ins lately? Are you in denial too?