A Hairy Encounter

 had a classic stand-off this morning with my mortal enemy, a very long-legged spider. I had to grudgingly admire his strategy, perched as he was on the bathroom ceiling between a very vulnerable me as I exited the shower, and the safety of escape through the bathroom door. Oh, he was crafty alright. I lamented the lack of ozone depleting spray cans in our can. Many’s a time I’ve given a disgusting spider a softer, more manageable look whilst coaxing him down the wall one spray at a time – all the better to squish you, my dear. But this particular foe would have to be spritzed, and spritzed he was. He hung on much longer than I predicted but finally victory was mine. I let out a final rebel yell as I finished him off with a wad of TP. Tough as he was, he was no match for me and my spritz. Or the fact that he was the size of my pinky-nail. No matter! Ye of the spider genus who dare to cross into my turf, be forewarned. I’ve got a bottle of hairspray and I’m not afraid to use it.