Not Always About Monkeys

This is a spider that was hanging out in the basement.
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It would be much spookier, I realize, if I had a picture of the ginormous Black Widow spider that Jeff slew for me the other week, but I didn't have my wits about me and therefore did not think to run upstairs before Jeff smooshed the poisonous spider. "Hang on! Let's take the chance that it will spring onto both of us and bite us in the eyes because it's very important that I photograph this spider." No.

Dwight was on the manly canoe trip, so I called my dad and he rushed to my aid in the case of the spider pictured here. He put it and it's two sacs of babies in a jar and took them away. No doubt to breed them for world domination. Just kidding. He eats them. No! I'm just kidding. He knows me well enough to know that even if he killed it and put it in the trash I would manage to convince myself later that it wasn't really dead and that it would come at me for vengence. Or that if he flushed it that it would somehow hang out in the U-Bend and come up and bite me in the ass when I take a pee.

I never had a problem with bugs, but now I do. Earwigs, spiders, these little bright red bugs that look kind of like lightning bugs but don't have wings are in residence, when previously all I had to worry about was roaches and cave crickets. Luckily, we've only seen one roach here every, but the cave crickets get upstairs once in a while. I'm always relieved that it is a cricket instead of a spider.

Well I've wussed out on you enough for one day. Back to homework.