Itsy bits spider . . .

Since we have somewhere around 50 trees on our lot, our house seems to be full of its share of spiders.  Taking a cue from my sister last year - after seeing a spider on the ceiling in our closet, only to have it fall among my folder slacks and shorts before I could kill it - I tend to grab the vacuum cleaner first to dispatch of any 8 legged guests.

Well, a few mornings ago, Kenzie came into our room stating that there was a giant spider on her ceiling.

Since Kristie was getting out of the shower, I couldn't well send her in there to kill it (but the thought did cross my mind).

I didn't really want to go all the way downstairs to get the vacuum - after all, the spider might be gone (who knows where) by then.

So I grabbed one of Kristie's slippers and stalked into Kenzie's room.  Sure enough, there was a spider (not a giant one, I was relieved to find) on the ceiling just before Kenzie's closet.

The only problem: I couldn't reach it (that's the problem of being built like a hobbit) to make sure I could land a direct hit with the sole of the slipper.

After all, what happens if I missed and swatted it somewhere - or much, much worse -what happens if I missed and it fell down . . . on me!

So I retreated and began to look for the kids' small step stool they use in their bathroom to reach the sink.

Of course, it wasn't in the bathroom.  I mean, why on earth should it be in the room it was intended to be used in?  And of course why should it be there when I actually need it?

It wasn't in our room either.

Then Kenzie broke the news to me: Dad, it's in my closet.

Yes, the closet that the spider was hanging over!

Just my luck.

So I walked back into Kenzie's room and peered into the closet.

There was the stool.

At least I didn't have to waste any time opening the closet door.

All I had to do was take one quick step beneath the arachnid, step inside the closet, grab the stool, set it down just outside the closet (but definitely not beneath the critter), and then reduce it to a dark smudge on the bottom of Kristie's slipper.

I was actually mentally going through the process when I took my fateful step beneath the spider.

Then it happened.


Just as I bent down to reach toward the stool, it happened.



Actually, "it" was two things simultaneously.



I heard Kenzie gasp and say something.



Before the words left her mouth, though, I knew exactly what the three words were going to be coming out of her mouth.



For just as I bent down, I felt something brush my hair.



That was when I knew the words coming out of my daughter's mouth were, "Dad, it fell!"




That was followed by a scream (from Kenzie, for the record) and footsteps as she fled to our room.




While I didn't scream, I began swatting at my hair to make sure the spider passed through my hair as quickly as possible.



Then the thoughts "What are the odds?" ran through my mind.



Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as this father's experience.



Moral of the story: ALWAYS go for the vacuum cleaner.  Even if that means buying a second one to keep just upstairs.