Ali and the Monster Spider

This morning the husband got home from a night shift at about 8am. I heard him messing around with his Playstation so he could play Guitar Hero, so I yelled at him to come to bed instead, and that we would play it later.
So he came in like a child caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, I asked him how work was, we chatted for a few minutes and then we both drifted to sleep. I rolled and tossed until about 10:45.
I never sleep that long anymore, but my body felt exhausted. My mind, however, had other plans and refused to let me actually sleep. I kept getting awakened by thoughts of the stack of overtime sitting on my living room floor, Ramona and Mack waiting for me to play with them, logging on to the crack that is Facebook, and finishing writing my submission for the Daddy book.
Finally I dragged my butt out of bed, pulled on my bathrobe, and made my way into the living room. I sat down at the computer, checked my email, went on Facebook for a few minutes and then decided that I was too tired to keep sitting up. So I dragged myself to the couch, curled up in the corner, and dozed until noon.
When I forced myself to sit up again I couldn't believe how tired I still felt. It was a chore just to keep myself sitting upright (this may be the beginnings of me getting sick, which I really hope isn't the case), so I decided that the only way to wake up was to have a shower.

Bleary-eyed I stumbled down the hall, into the bathroom and out of my bathrobe. I was just about to turn to the shower to turn on the taps when I saw movement in the sink.
As I turned completely to get a better look I couldn't see anything at first, but once I leaned in a tiny bit I saw a huge spider crawling up the side of the sink!
Within half a second I'm screaming. Standing there naked, screaming at the sink, and then I remembered that the husband was in bed sleeping. I turned down the scream level enough that I hoped I wouldn't wake him, then pushed myself up against the bathroom wall to try to get away from the spider.
He was huge - about 2 inches across - and no, I am not exaggerating for once in my life.
So, as I'm screaming, my mind is thinking about my options in this situation. Do I scream loud enough to wake up the husband so that he will come to investigate and save me? Do I grab some toilet paper and attempt to squish the monster spider on my own? Do I politely wake the husband up and explain the situation to him? He might not be appreciative of me waking him up, but I know he would come and get rid of the monster for me, and laugh at me later. Do I pretend that I haven't been to the bathroom yet and hope that either the monster will go back down the drain, or that the husband will get up to pee and find him and take care of him on his own? Or, do I somehow get past the monster, into the safety of the apartment and find something much bigger and stronger to kill him with?
(While I'm thinking all of these thoughts I'm still screaming.)

I decide on the last option.

I whip open the bathroom door, run into the hallway (still screaming) run back to check if the monster is still in the sink - he is, so I keep screaming - run down the hall into the living room, see my camera sitting on the table, decide to run back and take a picture for a post, scream the whole time I'm leaning over the sink taking the picture, run back into the living room and begin searching for a murder weapon.
I scream while I select a particularly thick stack of flyers from the recycle bin, while I roll it into a deadly scroll of murderous Wal-mart and Home Depot savings, while I run back down the hall into the bathroom, and while I bash the shit out of the little cretin in the sink.

(For any of you that are pro-bug and feel I should have scooped the monster into a cup and released him into a field of daisies and butterflies...I'm sorry - my fear gets the better of me.)

So, I screamed that whole time, when I was sure he was dead I flipped up the deadly scroll to look at the underside, screamed when I was certain that he was, in fact, dead, and then screamed as I ran back down the hall and threw the entire mess into a garbage bag.
After several minutes of violent shuddering and little baby screams still escaping my lips, I managed to force myself back into the bathroom for my shower.

I'm a little worried about tonight, when the husband will be at work and I will be left alone to fend off any other monster-like creatures.

Wish me luck.

'Tis the Season...

...for hella-big, killer spiders to invade my bathroom.

Seriously, could we just have one "spring" where spiders don't come up the drains? Please?

*I put spring in quotations because we have a snowfall warning in effect - for today.

Anyhoo, on to my monster arachnid story...

It's 6am, and I have just stumbled to the bathroom. I strip down, pee, wash my hands in the sink, then turn to start the shower. As I'm reaching for the faucet, I catch a glimpse of wild movement directly below me, about 4 inches from my toes.
I jump back and scream, then remember that I've got a sleeping husband, and sick, sleeping baby mere feet away, and I clamp my hands over my mouth and lower the octave on my scream.

Sidenote - It seems I haven't matured at all from this whole spider debacle.

My huge, burly, 8 legged foe tries to fake me out with a "maybe I'll go left, maybe I'll go right, maybe I'll come right at you, no, I'm going left manoeuvre" while I just keep backing up towards the door, screaming into my hand, and panicking.

In about 12 seconds, these thoughts fly through my brain: I've got to get the f*ck out of here! Maybe I can go get Chris? Nope, that will just wake Ellery and she's sick, so she definitely needs her sleep. I'll go get a shoe and stomp him! No, that will still wake Ellery - let's face it, you're not exactly quiet when you're trying to murder something. Maybe I should just get in the shower and pretend he's not here? Then when I get out he might be gone...No stupid, because then while you're brushing your teeth or something he's going to be crawling up your legs! What can I kill him with that's long enough so that my hand is at least 2 feet from him, but that I can really squish him good?

So I wildly rip open the cupboards under the sink, silently praying (since aloud, I'm still screaming) that mysteriously there is a combat boot, a bottle of insecticide, a gun, or a bottle of hairspray and a lighter.

What I found was nail polish remover, toilet paper, tums, and such other items that definitely weren't going to help unless the spider either needed a manicure, had pooped himself, or had a tummy ache - all of which I wasn't planning on finding out.

But then suddenly, in the back, I caught sight of a bottle. A wonderful, nearly 2 foot tall bottle of drain cleaner!

I quickly yanked it out, poised myself above him, and SLAM, SLAM, SLAM!!! I repeatedly smashed the bottle down onto where the spider should have been. But every time I lifted my weapon, he would come scurrying out, having narrowly avoided death. He managed to get himself into the small groove between the tub and the floor, and pulled himself in to wait me out. He knew that the rounded corners of my bottle wouldn't fit into the space he'd gotten himself into.

But the more frustrated I got, the angrier I got, and the more I would slam the bottle down near him. I must have scared him a little, because he started making his way along the side of the tub, towards the wall behind the toilet. I watched him with the stealth of a lioness, and eventually his cockiness got the better of him, when instead of staying close to the perimeter, he decided to round off the curve between the wall and the tub, thus putting himself about 1.5 inches outside of his safety zone.

I grit my teeth, raised the bottle above my head, and said "Big mistake. Now you die, f*cker!"

And he did.

In a black, gooey, mess.


I left the remains and the bottle for the husband to dispose of, and went about my morning.