The soundtrack plays in my head, "Bum bum bum bum bum...bum bum bum bum bum," and I see Tom Cruise dangling from a wire above the booby trapped floor as tension mounts. One wrong move and he's captured!
But it's not Tom Cruise, it's Spider Cruise, arachnid spy extraordinaire. And it's not the floor he's suspended above, it's my head. Of all the square footage in the living room, he had to drop into mine.
It's an all too common story lately. Spider drops down from the ceiling on web-rope and I catch him out of the corner of my eye just before he lands somewhere on my person. I shudder to think of all the times I didn't see him because he was directly on top of my head. Oh, the horrors!
I've said it before, but it bears repeating, I can live with ghosts, flies, attack roosters, and even the occasional misplaced wasp, but damn it, I can NOT cohabitate with spiders. It just goes against nature.
Here is my list of reasons why:
1. They have as many eyes as legs, and they have four times as many legs as me.
2. They can defy gravity by walking on ceilings, up walls, and even in mid-air thanks to their seemingly unlimited supply of silly string.
3. They bite. And even if they don't bite, the idea that they could is enough for me.
4. They have more hair on their many legs than I do in the dead of winter, and that's scary.
5. I can't even think of any more reasons without completely creeping myself out.
Let's just suffice it to say, I don't like spiders. And yet I love fall, and fall is filled with orb weavers and other assorted garden variety spiders. Don't even get me started on the exotic breeds. Just send bug netting. I'm going to build a tent out of netting and live inside it until winter.
Until the next time...I'll be stocking up on Raid.