EEEK!!

One thing I hate about the warmer weather is that spiders have decided to make their horrid presences apparent in my home. I don’t know where they go in the winter. Maybe they hide or hibernate or vacation in Hell. I don’t really care. I just don’t want them in my house. They are unwanted, uninvited, malefic detestable interlopers. And so they must die.

Now I am not interested in any negative comments on my blog from PETA. (People for the Ethical Treatment of Arachnids.) So if you are from PETA and read this post and are offended, please be aware that I have done extensive spider research: I read “Charlotte’s Web” four times as a child. And so I know that spiders kill Bad Insects. But here’s the thing: Spiders are Bad Insects. They kill House Flies by sucking their blood. That's just evil. I saw one do this once. And some spiders are poisonous, and can stop your heart by one single bite. House Flies do not try to murder you. They just sort of aviate around your food, buzz by your ear, and then keel over after you swat them.
Spiders = Bad.
Flies = Annoying.
Clearly, I’d rather have “Annoying.”

I realize that not all spiders are poisonous, but how do we distinguish? I heard that the Black Widow Spider has a bite that is ten times more venomous to the human than the bite of a rattlesnake. (Oi Vey!) Oookay...... I’m certainly not rolling over the next trespassing arachnid to check its belly with a magnifying glass. Let’s just call them all bad and be done with it.

The other evening, as I was chopping vegetables for my Cheeseburger Paradise Soup, I noticed a shadow by my left eyeball. It was a spider, casually shimmying down the ceiling on its filament, less than an inch from my hair. So I did what any normal red-blooded American woman would do. I panicked. I screamed and began wildly slashing with my butcher knife. Then I grabbed a nearby bottle of Windex and sprayed madly. After I washed the Windex out of my eye, I saw the evil arachnid drop onto my counter, and scuttle away on its gross hairy legs into my cutlery drawer. I slammed the drawer shut and screamed for Rock Star, who searched the cutlery drawer with a glance and declared the Spider “Gone.” Gone? Gone where?? Oh Dear God, WHERE DID IT GO???

I have not been near my cutlery drawer since, in case the spider is a Black Widow and hiding under the sugar spoon, wickedly planning my demise when I venture near its lair. So we are eating with plastic until Super Hubs agrees to either bring in an exterminator or presents me with the Cutlery Drawer Spider’s corpse on a platter.
(Big sigh.) It’s all been extremely stressful.

My Spider Blogging has given me itchy skin and a rampant case of the Heebie-Jeebies, so I must run now and take a shower with a potent germicide. Peace out. And beware. They are out there. Watching you.