Hero

Here's a question--why is it that I'm reduced to a whimpering pile of dogshit when it comes to 8-legged creatures?

It's 3:30 a.m. Little person wakes me up because she has to go potty. Fine. Normal.

Not normal: big, brown, hairy, friggin' tarantula style s-word watching us from the bathtub.

After a bona-fide Oscar performance (read: I didn't scream loudly and piss myself) I put the child safely to bed and re-entered the bathroom, though I had no clue what I planned to do about the situation. I remember calling my friend Adrienne over from across the street to kill a cocky daddy longleg that had dared enter my house when I was about 14, but with her living several states away now that option didn't seem a good one.

This wasn't a small scary spider, mind you...this was a BIG scary spider, and there was no way I could squash it or even wack it with a shoe, because it would clearly just stand up and squash me back.

I finally decided on Drano, 'cuz that's some powerful stuff. Proud of my creative approach, I quickly filled a cup full and, squinting so I could aim reasonably close to the target, I threw the poison in.

Off by a mile, and now the monster was on the move.

Windex! It has a sprayer! That slowed it down, but I had to really interact closely. To avoid the screaming thing, plus possible pukeage, I did a quick follow-up with the Drano, this time on a much slower enemy.

Eventually (long, long, long 20 seconds or so) it stopped moving, which meant I still had the ominous task of removing it from the bathtub.

Cover the corpse with more Windex, for good measure. Cover the mess with wads of toilet paper to conceal the imagery. Find big man-shoe to eliminate any trace of life that might still be struggling to take hold.

And finally, a blind, lightening-fast swoop of more tissue directly into the toilet for flushing. Twice.

I wish I could say I felt some kind of satisfaction, but since I wasn't able to sleep afteward it just served to screw up my entire day.

Next time she can pee all by her lonesome.