Itsy bitsy spider with a Very Important Lesson to Teach Us

Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I saved a spider.

For this story to be wondrous, let me say that I don't like spiders. At all. I'm not as bad as my sister Spitfire, who possibly has an actual phobia and runs away screaming if she sees one at the other end of the room, or my sister Savvymom, who yells for her husband to kill the spider lest it find a way into Savvy's crib where it will devour her slowly. But I'm still really bad.

For the past few days I've noticed a tiny spider in my shower--really tiny. If it were bigger, I would not be telling this story. Instead, I would be telling the story of the Huge Fatty Spider that I Bludgeoned to Death with a Costco-sized Bottle of Conditioner. That first day, I figured the spray from the shower would quickly send the thing down the drain, as it has other spiders before him. But when I rinsed off my shampoo I looked around to see if it was gone, and I saw that the little guy had gone behind the shower curtain, just out of reach of the water. I was impressed.

"Hmmm. Well played, Spider."

Then it seemed like bad form just to squash him between the curtain and the tub, since his idea was a good one, and it wasn't like he could get to me. Plus I was in a hurry.

"Alright, then. We'll see how you do tomorrow."

Next day he managed to stay out of harm's way (and my way) again. And I was in a hurry, again, so I didn't kill him.

This morning he was there, but he was almost in the middle of the tub floor, so I figured his day had come. He couldn't get away from the raging river of death this time. After the shower, while drying my hair, I checked the tub to see if by any possible means he had survived. I found him in a water droplet, his little drowned spider body all curled up. And I felt kind of sad at the demise of a brave and resourceful adversary. So I made him a promise, there in my bathroom.

"Okay, Spider. You look pretty dead to me, but if I come back from church and you are alive, I will not kill you. I will take you outside, because you will have earned it."

5 hours later, I checked the tub again. He was perched near the drain, looking healthy and very happy with himself. And a promise is a promise. It took some maneuvering to pick him up with the toilet paper, since he didn't actually want to go with me, and I didn't want him to get out of the paper and scurry across my hand. But we made it, and I threw the wad of toilet paper out into the tomato garden, and watched him scuttle away to freedom.

If this were a fairy tale, one day this spider would save my life in some wonderful way. I'm not holding out for that, but my thoughts are with the little guy.

Note to all other spiders out there: Don't let this make you think I've gone soft. I'll still be killing the rest of you.