We both hate each other, and we both love to hate each other.
It wasn't always this way, though...oh, wait. I think it was. I honestly didn't realize how deep-seated our blood feud was until now when I tried to think of a time when I didn't hate spiders (here's a secret: I couldn't).
What I did remember was looking flipping through children's science books when I was young, fascinated with everything...except the spiders. I would purposefully skip over the pages about them, or, if there was a particular bit of information I wanted to read on the same page, I would cover up the pictures of spiders.
Our feud started to pick up pace in middle school when spiders started stealing my socks (I know it was them). That's when I adopted my mantra, "The only good spider is a dead spider." It's true. How many spiders do you see volunteering at hospitals or donating money to charity? None, that's how many. You can't even find one spider that isn't currently plotting a murder.
See this bugger?
Yeah, that's right. He is scary. He's the Tree-dwelling Funnel-web spider. He's aggressive. If you get close to him, he stands on his hind legs to get ready to pounce. What's worse is that his poison doesn't affect most animals. His prey consists of monkeys and humans, yo. Tell me that you didn't just pee your pants. Go ahead, tell me.
...You're such a liar. Anyway, I'm pretty sure there's on of these in my garage or something. He's been sending waves of spiders after me for years now. I thwarted on of his biggest advances several years ago, and since then, I think he's been being pretty cautious.
You see, one night I was playing video games, minding my own business, when suddenly, the most disgusting, creepy-looking spider you could ever imagine was running right at me. I grabbed a shoe and sent him back to spider hell (there is no spider heaven). Five minutes later, a freaking black widow is advancing on my position. I panicked, but managed to send her back from whence she came too. She looked like this:
After that, I knew something was up.
I grabbed a can of bug spray and searched the house. I found about three separate ambushes set up for me: one in the television room, one in my bedroom, and one in the bathroom each consisting of two or more spiders.
For some reason, I went into the garage that night. Why I would go to spider central after having survived several attempts at taking my life, I don't know. But that was when I saw him: the big boss. I knew he was the evil mastermind behind the attacks from the moment I saw him. He was standing there looking all smug - right there in front of the door. I whipped out the spray, but too late. He had already scurried back to his lair. I was a paranoid mess for the rest of the night.
One of these days, we're going to face off. Like Harry Potter and Voldemort, but with less wands and love and stuff, and more shoes and guts and bug spray.
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