So this morning, I was going about my merry little way.
It was 7am, I had just gotten home from a glorious 5-mile run (lead legs and all) and the endorphins were flowing strong and fast.
I was in the middle of making the bed and chatting with boyfriend while he was in the other room when the unthinkable happened.
A SPIDER crawled out of the bed.
A huge (okay it was the size of a nickel), black, terribly mean looking spider.
Not kidding, I was paralyzed with fear. I stared at it, it stared back at me (don’t spiders have like 10 eyes?) and I dared it to move.
The spider took that dare.
“BOYFRIEND. SPIDER. BED. NOW. HELP!”
Still frozen in place, boyfriend ran in ready to end the spiders life that had so arrogantly and carelessly trespassed into our bed, when it slipped out of sight and disappeared forever.
(I’m telling myself, repeatedly, that it has left our apartment in search of a more welcoming tenant. Just go with it.)
In a panic, I ripped the sheets off the bed and shook them out hoping the spider would come flying out. (What I planned to do if that happened wasn’t thought out.)
All day at work I imagined I would come home and the apartment would be crawling with millions of baby spiders.
Then my mom called me a wuss.
But you can bet it didnt’ stop me from getting quarters and throwing all sheets, duvets, blankets, etc into the wash tonight.
Next time spidey… I’ll be prepared with a rolled up newspaper.
Consider yourself warned.
Oh yeah, I could definitely take him.