I think one of the reasons I’ve never taken any of the gents in my town too seriously is that they are rather keen on hunting – no, keen isn’t the word for it – they truly like to shoot anything that moves. I, on the other hand, cannot even kill a bug, and actually go great lengths to save any moving creature that enters my abode.
Perhaps my apartment is a safehouse of sorts for God’s smallest creatures, because they always seem quite happy to enter. There was the mouse incident. Two weeks earlier, I opened my blinds to find a ten-inch green lizard basking peacefully upon my window sill. I also find tiny geckos, really cute green bugs, and various spiders.
And until recently, never would I kill these spiders.
But then . . .
Bing was attacked in her sleep by a poisonous arachnid two doors down from me! And the arachnid had no mercy upon her. She was on anti-venom for more than two weeks, and still has the bites in her skin.
Thus, I’ve resolved to avenge Bing’s bites and take upon the heroic task of protecting Papageorgio, my guests, and myself.
Because the spiders are usually on the ceiling, I’ve fashioned an appropriate weapon – I’ve affixed a book* upon the head of my mop. When terror strikes, I spray the book with very powerful poison, creep upon the beast, and . . . well, it’s just too terrible to describe.
So far, I have successfully warded off two attacks with my skillful weaponry. So – to all the gents with guns – who’s the hunter now! Just call me Artemis and consider me armed and dangerous. . .
*No decent literature is harmed in this endeavor.
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Spider bites in the night scare the daylights out of me.
There are certain creepy bugs that do not deserve to live if they enter my home, hence I always have a can of raid nearby and the exterminator comes dutifully every 3 months. Unfortunately, my hatred to certain bugs has been passed on to my son. So the next time you come over and see my son slamming a shoe on the ground yelling “Die!Die!”, please know that he only does this to protect his momma from earwigs and other things that measure less than 1/2 an inch…if they are any bigger he ends up standing on a chair with me yelling to be rescued.
Here’s my nerdy comment of the day. Although Artemis was the wondrous goddess of the hunt, don’t you think you would be better suited as Athena? I say this because it was Athena who defeated Arachne in the weaving competition. Just a thought.
I love the idea of being Athena – I was going to update this reference in my post, but then decided it would be best to leave it as is, so that such a great idea would be yours and yours alone.
I’m glad my friend house found the huntress within. I am also glad to hear that no decent literature is harmed. This is hilarious!
Spider bites are terrible and I have scars to prove it. Keep on hunting!
Don’t feel guilty about killing spiders. In fact, don’t feel guilty about anything.
I, too, am of the “capture and release” movement. And until about a year ago, I would capture all spiders who entered my apartment and let them loose into the wild that is the parking lot. Until, that is, I found out the spiders I was releasing were Hobo Spiders. *shiver*
Now I have my boyfriend squish the beasts (as I still can’t do it).