I'm not afraid of spiders, I just don't like them. I have one who lives on my front porch. His name is Harry, because what else do you name a spider? His spins a mean web and he navigates it rather quickly when I walk by. I snapped this photo of him today and sent it to a friend who probably wasn’t amused because he dislikes spiders more than I do.So, I’m driving home tonight after spending a nice, quiet evening in a coffee shop watching a singer I know perform his music while I sipped a skinny vanilla latte at a nearby table with some friends. It’s dark outside, which means it’s dark in the car, but half way home I saw something race across the visor over my head. I looked up in time to see a decent sized spider scampering his way around the other side of the visor on my side. I’m not freaked out at this point, but I don’t really want the spider on me. That’s where I draw the line. So, I grabbed my cell phone and squished him.
Mission accomplished, right?
Wrong.
Not more than a minute later, I see another spider. This one is twirling around my rearview mirror. But I lost track of him before I could squish him. Tomorrow, in full daylight, I’m going spider hunting in my car. I probably won’t find any, but you can bet I’ll be looking pretty hard. And you can also bet that if the friend I sent a picture of Harry to reads this, he’ll probably text me saying I got what I deserved.
