showering with the spider

This morning I showered with a spider.

Not by choice, of course, but by pure luck of getting up at 5am, the time when, so I hear, spiders generally bathe and shower.

It's not like we live in an old, spooky, or dirty house. (Well, maybe it's as old as me, but you know the old I'm talking of). I vaccum and dust, and when I feel like it, I even shake the rugs. The spider thing is no forigener-I live in a basement with all sorts of creepy crawlies.

I enjoy a good shower; nothing beats the HOT water pelting my skin to welts early in the morning. I love washing my hair-it's the smell.

But when you find you are sharing this very personal experience with an eight legged creature, a somewhat discomfeted feeling comes over you.

I saw that black creature wiggling its way away from the water (hehe, they can't swim), jumped out of the shower and ran for a shoe. This way, I wouldn't have to physically touch it, just sort of swat at it until it died of drowning and head injuries (and probably leg injuries for that matter).

I discarded of the pesky pet and resumed my favorite morning ritual. Now, its body is somewhere in the pipes in about 9 or 10 pieces, floating up to the big spider cemetary in the sky.

Maybe tomorrow I'll lunch with an earwig!!