The Unwanted Roommate

It was late at night, time to shower and rinse off the day’s grime before climbing into bed.  But as I entered the bathroom, I wasn’t prepared to meet my surprise roommate.  He (or she) was hanging out in the corner of the shower, unmoving, but full of potential energy - a mid-sized tarantula.

So I did what any reasonable person would do when she finds a giant spider in her shower: I called my Dad for help.  I was prepared to smash the spider with the end of the broom handle (maximum distance between us, but a large margin for error since the top of the handle was small and I could easily miss.)  However, I didn’t really want to clean up the mess afterward, so I was open to other ideas.

After talking me down from my ledge of fear, Dad explained the process of trapping the spider under a bucket, sliding a piece of paper under it, and flipping it over to trap it there.  Then, I’d need to walk the unwelcome guest very, very, very far away from my house to make sure it didn’t try to move back in.  The trouble was, it was 10:30 at night, so we had to problem solve through putting the bucket outside to wait until morning (the puppies could knock it over) to leaving the bucket inside (the spider could somehow use its gigantic legs and evil intent to escape) to reach our final solution: put a heavy pot on top of the bucket to ensure that even a super-spider couldn’t escape. 

 

I was ready to put the plan into action, and told my Dad I’d update him when the ordeal was over.  After several false starts (the spider didn’t even move, I just freaked myself out) I struck with the upside down bucket.  It was a good thing I hadn’t tried the broom handle, because even with the much larger striking area I missed and cut off three of the spider’s legs.  It scuttled (very quickly, I should add, for only having five legs) across the shower floor, and I’m proud to say I only shrieked once, and for only a very short amount of time.

 

Strike two was both more and less successful.  The spider did not escape again, but that was only because I smashed it with the edge of the bucket.  It curled in on itself, twitching slightly, and I felt about 0.4 seconds worth of pity before it was replaced with thankfulness that the whole ordeal was nearly at an end.

I reunited the spider with its three legs and threw it over the back fence.  I’m sorry to say that there were no words said, no funeral or commemoration of any kind, but what can you really say about a roommate who moves in uninvited?  I ran the shower for a rather long time before climbing in, just to be sure that any remaining spider guts were washed down the drain.  And I finished the whole event by reporting my quasi-success to my parents, who said, “You’re so brave!” and also “I hope he was no relation to Aragog.”

I now check the shower religiously before climbing in.