A few nights ago, I got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. I did not turn on the bathroom light until I reached for the toilet paper and realized that the roll was empty. When I flipped on the light to find a new roll, a fairly good-sized spider came out from the tiny space between the floor and the bottom of the door facing. There was nothing within arm's reach with which to bash it except the empty toilet paper tube, still on the roller. When I reached for the tube, the spider went back under the door facing.
I hate spiders, in general, and especially one I know about. This one would be dealt with, but first I had paperwork to do.
While I was putting new toilet paper on the roller, the spider came out again.
I flattened the toilet paper tube and managed to jam it under the door facing. I jabbed it around until I was satisfied that if the toilet paper roll was going to kill the spider, the deed was done. Case closed. Back to bed.
The next morning when I turned on the light, the spider (or its identical twin) came out from under the door facing. Back to the toilet paper tube. Jab, jab, jab. Then I smashed the bottom of the door facing with my foot for good measure.
I haven't seen the spider again.
But that doesn't mean it's not there.
. . . .
