the itsy, bitsy...

Though we're smack dab in the middle of Tropical Storm Gabrielle and the high humidity that's accompanying it, there's no question that summer has bid us it's untimely adieu.  In retrospect I have a few tales to tell about one of the few unsavory things that come along with summer. Namely bugs. Nasty, creepy, crawly, icky, disgusting bugs!

I sat on the living room couch one morning, sipping on my coffee and watching the news when Chris very calmly said, "Amber? What would you say if I told you that I saw the biggest spider that I've ever seen in my life?".  I returned that with a, "I'd say KILL IT!", followed by a narrowed-eyed, "Where?!?!".  A very calm, "Right here. In the sink", and he points, and actually steps back a little.  I grow slightly more panicked at this point, adding a bit of a begging tone to my, "Kiiiillll it!!".  Chris' suggestion to end the spider's existence in our kitchen sink?  Running hot water and drowning him.

Well no. That just will NOT DO.  Number 1, there's no way you can get the hot water to reach temperatures high enough to cause life-ending scalds to the thing. Number 2, how do we NOT know that the little effer didn't climb up the drain hole in the first place, thus proving it's ability to withstand the hottest of our hot water temperatures, and also cementing the fact that they CAN SWIM.  There was no way I could take the risk that he could simply be offered a flume ride down to its humble abode. NO!  We had to ensure that there was no risk of the possibility that he could crawl back up there and make its way out of the sink. And there was only one solution.  The man of the house had to nut up and be the one to do the killing.  They only problem?  He was convinced his idea was the winner.  And I could have nothing to do with that.  I had to be the bigger person and ensure there was no risk of that thing returning and crawling over my face at night or nesting in my ear (actually, he was too big to do such a thing; it never would have fit in my ear).

So I push up my sleeves and approach the sink - only one goal in mind:  to get that sink spider dead.  He was so big there was no doubt in the world that he'd be juicy and go down with a fight, so I had to ensure that my hands didn't do the killing.  I first enlisted a sufficient ream of paper toweling which I coated the spider with, then grabbed the dish soap bottle with the thought of smushing it to smithereens. Unfortunately the keen arachnid just hid in the small hollow between the middle of the bottle bottom and the sink.  Chris laughed.  A few seconds of panic followed before I realized that the best kill tool would be the sharp-bristled scrub brush. Yes!  That would do.  I took a bit of the paper towel cushion away and proceeded to jab and stab at it, forcing an albeit messy, but successful demise of the sink spider.

An alternate description, in the words of Christopher, courtesy of Facebook:

Me: Amber, there's a giant spider in the sink
Spider: DUDE! Help! I can't get the fuck out of here, I can't climb the walls! 
Me: that's bad dude, Amber doesn't like spiders
Spider: help help help help
Me: want a hot shower? 
Spider: no! that will kill me
Amber: don't wash it down the sink, it will come back!
Spider: come back and do what? I can't climb the fuck out of the sink! 
Me: I've selected the method of death for this spider, if I can't kill him this way, you'll have to do it.
Amber: (grabs 18 feet of paper towel, throws it on the spider, and then hits the four inches of cushion with the dish soap bottle)
Me: laughing
Spider: missed me, I'm going down the drain! YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME!
Amber: No you're not. (grabs scrub brush, throws down less paper towel cushion) die die die
Spider: silence
Me: laughing still
Amber: wipes up spider goo with 18' of paper towel

Moral of the story:  Chivalry is dead. And spiders are gross. And don't belong in kitchens.

Stay tuned, the bug tales are not over.