Proof to my theory that those icky, disgusting things live in the deep, dark depths of the drain pipes. Chris wasn't home when it reared its girthy frame so I knew I was on my own. I DID, however, attempt to coerce Bosco to be the saviour of the day. He and Zoe both do enjoy playing with the odd creepy crawly. As Zoe's *ahem* stature isn't condusive to quick-play, Bosco won the choice in cat, and I thought I'd likely be home free. I grab him, coax him into the tub, asking him to, "Get that spider for Mummy!! Get that spider!!". Bosco immediately made an extremely hasty retreat from the tub as fast as he left my arms. It was as if I'd introduced him to the devil himself. Not wanting to take the chance on another fail, I opted out of grabbing Zoe from her slumber, and instead grabbed the nearly-full 1.5L bottle of shampoo and went to work. The death was fairly quick, but I did mush a few extra heaves at it with the bottle. When I was convinced the spider could not reincarnate I then took an empty toilet paper tube and flicked him from the bottom of the shampoo bottle into the waiting toilet bowl and sent him a-flush. You can never be too sure, ya know.
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