I figured today, I’d go with a funny post. I know not all women go through this process, but I do know there are many of us out there. So, here’s my inside view into the female process of dealing with a spider.
So, we’re in the bathroom, minding our own business, when a movement catches our eye. And there, on the floor in the corner, is a spider.
It freaks us out and we feel as if the room has betrayed us, hiding the spider like that. The bathroom starts to feel smaller, and the whole situation begins to feel more like this:
But we’re stuck since we’re in the middle of doing our business. So we quickly and neatly (since we’re ladies) finish, all the while never taking our eyes off the spider.
The first instinct we feel is to run. But then we realize that gives the little sucker a chance to hide somewhere else where we won’t be able to find it- therefore legitimately locking us out of our own bathroom by using our fear of it creeping up on us.
So we decide to stay.
But we sneak over to the doorway of the bathroom, positioning ourselves to where we’re just one jump away from being a safe distance from the spider- while still keeping it within our view at all times.
At this point, we smartly yell for someone else that’s home to come kill it.
Unfortunately, most of the time there’s just us and we’re forced to make the decision- fight or flight? That first instinct rushes over us once more and we want to run. Out of sight, out of mind, right? But then we quickly remember the fear it would instill in us should the spider hide.
So fight it is.
We take a deep breath and put on our butt-kicking armor, getting into the mindset of the independent spider killer we dream to be.
We take off our shoe, choosing the one we feel has the biggest potential spider-killing circumference, all while our eyes are still locked on the spider.
We tense up, knowing what we’re about to do, and slowly and cautiously move closer to the spider.
Hovering over the spider, shoe at the ready, our heart is pounding. We really don’t want to do this. What if it goes right for us?
What if it falls on us?
What if it attacks us?
What if it pulls us back to its lair?
While we were prepared for the inevitable smackdown of the spider with our shoe, our thoughts distracted us for just enough time for the spider to go into ninja mode and run up the wall into the ceiling corner. We instinctively jump back and scream a little.
Or a lot.
Which is when we realize the stupid thing is now completely out of reach due to our girly height restrictions and small dainty shoes that aren’t big enough to throw at the spider and get the job done. (Because this is what happens when we try):
Instinctively, our minds go to the backup plan. We allow our gaze to wander from the spider just long enough to spot it- the bathroom air freshener.
Now, we’re fully armed.
Not wanting to give the spider any more time to flee, we hastily spray the daylights outta the spider (not even caring that we’re getting it all over the wall/ceiling).
The spider falls (seemingly in slow motion to us) from the ceiling and lands on the floor, all the while we continue to spray it to death.
Not convinced it’s dead, we apply our original method of attack and smash the spider with our shoe.
We remove our shoe from the spider, and slowly, we wait, watching for any slight movement of its little legs to tell us it’s still alive. When it doesn’t move after several seconds of intense observation, we smack it a few last times with our shoe for good measure.
Wetting the bottom of an obscene amount of toilet paper (there’s no way any part of the spider is going to touch us!), we swiftly swipe up the spider in the toilet paper and throw it in the toilet. Stepping back, we watch as our formidable opponent gets flushed down to Dallas. The battle is WON.
We walk out of the bathroom like this:
And then we go and eat a big piece of chocolate as a reward. After all, it’s tough being the independent spider killers we are.