A week ago, there was a gigantic spider in our living room. I am talking big and black and spidery. There was no way I could reach and no reason that I would actually want to. After some scheming, I had a broom handle ready for attack and stood on our step stool ladder. He fell down the wall. Trust me, there was plenty of squealing and raid-spraying involved in about 30 seconds, I nicknamed him Goliath, who still remains at large in our living room to this day. All I kept thinking was how I needed a warrior to take care of the situation.
This morning, Goliath's little nephew was in my closet. No screeching involved this time. And a successful kill too, if I am allowed to boast like that.
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