No more Mr. Nice Guy

I'm not one of those squeamish, squealy girls who faints at the sight of of spiders. Living things deserve respect. You know,"All God's creatures got a place in the choir . . ." Even ants and spiders and various six-legged animals have a place. Outside. Venture into my bathtub, Charlotte, and you're toast. And if you think you can escape your fate by writing an uplifting little message in your web--I have news for you. THAT STORY IS FICTION!

Has anyone else noticed the sudden spider population explosion? I have patiently flushed dozens of them down the toilet over the past few weeks. But Saturday I grabbed my towel in preparation for a nice bath and the Queen Mother of spiders dropped down and scurried across my toes.

A line had been crossed. If that wasn't enough, when I went to the bathtub four of her little offspring were huddled around the drain. I have no doubt they were planning how to take over my entire home. Today the neighborhood, tomorrow the world. This demanded drastic action.

Confession: I called the pest control guys. The ones who come to your house and spray who-knows-what everywhere. My earth-loving side insisted that I ask the right questions before I signed the 12 month contract. How toxic? Would it kill my dog? The pest guy was good--incredibly reassuring. He kept using words like "organic" and "safe" and I think he even threw "pre-school" in there somewhere. I don't know, my impression was that I could use his bug-killing formula as a nightly facial cleanser or put it in my grandson's bottle with no ill effects.

It wouldn't have mattered, frankly. If he'd told me my dog would sprout tusks and my leg hair would grow a yard per day, I still would have said, "Great, when can you spray?" So, critters beware. The ugly bug ball is over. And friends, if you notice an extra ear protruding from my chin next week, just look the other way. I may have a few spare appendages, but my house is spider free!