Near-Death

The other night I was in the laundry room attending to my housewife duties.  I was reaching for a hanger when an enormous spider lunged at me from inside the sink.  He was the size of an Oompa-Loompa and as hairy as Bigfoot, with dark eyes that radiated evilness.  The disgusting creature was trying to scurry up the sides of the sink so he could consume me for dinner.  I screamed in terror for Michael and he came rushing down the stairs like the noble and obedient husband that he is.  He looked panicked and asked what was wrong.  I responded that there was a hairy beast in the sink and he was trying to kill me.

Michael immediately chastised me for making it sound like I was in the midst of a real emergency.  He said I had terrified him and he thought I had broken a limb or stabbed my eye out with a hanger.  He was irritated that I was screaming for him because of a spider.

First of all, it was the biggest spider in the history of spiders.  Secondly, I could see in his evil eyes that he was going to swallow me in one bite.  And third, IT WAS A REAL EMERGENCY.

Michael washed the humongous fiend down the sink and then put the plunger over the drain to satisfy my concern that he would climb out again in the middle of the night, be extra ticked off, and come after me in a rage.  Then Michael chastised me again for overreacting.  (No such thing when it involves spiders.)

The rest of the evening Michael had guilt that he didn’t smash the spider, but let it die a slow death by drowning.  He felt like he had caused the poor thing undeserved misery and it was inhumane.  I do not agree.  That jerk got what he deserved.  We really should have tied him up and dragged him behind our horse like any other outlaw.  I’m all for corporal punishment.  He was lucky we let him drown peacefully. 

I really hate spiders.