It was a day like any other. Or so it seemed. Gargantua trembled softly as he skittered across the floor. If only he could make it to the bedroom, he’d eat like a king for days.
The world biggest spider tried to get me yesterday. And it died quickly. There was a momentary standoff. He was standing in front of my closet, barring access to the good spider smushing shoes. Fortunately, Markus was away on business so my thick-soled slides were still where I had kicked them off and not promptly put away.
Markus hates to see shoes in the designer line of his wall, wood floor, and carpeting or even on feet. Unless they are high heels. High heels have a free pass. I leave my shoes wherever I happen to take them off and at one time, expected them to still be there when I needed them again. That special part of my single girl brain still functions. It’s the shoe, jeans, and sweater map, similar to the where did I leave my underwear thing. Regardless of where I left it, I can usually remember where it is. Unless someone puts it away. Then I’m totally screwed.
Anyway, I was able to reach the one pair of shoes not held hostage by Gargantua. I know every spider looks like the biggest ever and I’ve seen my share of spiders. Growing up with my mom and brother terrified of those hairy-legged creatures of horror, I was the family member designated for spider euthanasia. That being said, this spider stopped me in my tracks. I could see his individual legs move from 10 feet. I know this because when I almost stepped on him, running to catch the phone, I jumped back about 10 feet.
His body was thick and roundly elongated. I swear I could see him gyrate to the music I was blaring. He was that big. He was so big that the two steps up to the bedroom were really not much of an obstacle. I was lucky to smash him before he jumped up and smothered my face. The après smash shiver dance lasted for at least 3 minutes. I ran around screaming, jumping and shaking, wondering if I could just leave the shoe in place for Markus to dispose of when he got home at 1 am.
Of course I couldn’t. This spider was so big that I wasn’t even sure if he was dead. I could leave the shoe only to have him crawl away pissed. Markus would come home, I’d lift the shoe and there would be no spider. No, he would hide under my bed only to crawl around like that Tarantula on the Brady’s Hawaiian Vacation. I’d wake up with his front legs on my chin and his fangs set on kill. No, I had to make sure this guy was dead.
Yep, he was smashed. I went to Markus’ toilet (we have two and he wasn’t going in mine) to shake him off the sole. In the shaking process, Gargantua, still relatively intact, flew on to the side of the toilet seat. Three minutes later, after another extended screaming-shaking-shivering dance of spider death, I was able to recognize that he was indeed dead, not just faking it. I had simply shaken the body onto the toilet rather than in to the bowl.
Five more minutes were spent determining the best way to move the body. The toilet brush would get all gunky with spider parts. I know, I know. It’s a toilet brush. For some reason, spider guts seem worse to me than poop. Maybe I’ve lived here too long. I don’t know, but the toilet brush was out. I didn’t want to touch it with toilet paper because he was all wet with spider guts. I tried to shoot him down with Clorox Clean-Up, but I just made a mess. I ended up with a Clorox wet wipe and the edge of a bottle. Still, a leg was left. I did think of the Wraith on Stargate. If that leg had moved, i would have been a goner.
Three flushes later, life was back to normal. I have no idea how that spider could have gotten into the house. It was that big. Did he walk in with me when i got home or had he come in when he was small and just grew. That’s a thought to keep me up at night. And, where were my pussy ass cats during this episode? Captured prey for these lily-livered felines. Cleo used to take out squirrels and bring me the tails. Where was she during this engagement? Watching from far, far away. The spider was that big.