Along came a spider

“Holy Cow,” I shouted. “There’s a giant spider on the wall. I think it’s a tarantula!”

“It’s not a tarantula,” said my husband, looking up from his computer. “There are no tarantulas around here.”

“Then it’s a wolf spider.”

“What, are you suddenly an arachnologist?”

“What’s that? An expert in peanut butter?”

“No. Why would I call you an expert in peanut butter?”

“I thought that’s what an arachnologist was.”

“No, you’re thinking of arachibutyrophobia, the fear of peanut butter getting stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“Well, they’re close! Oh no, the spider is making a run for it!”

“Maybe it has a fear of peanut butter getting stuck to the roof of its mouth.”

“This isn’t funny. You need to get it out before it bites me.”

“What makes you think it would want to bite you?”

“That’s what spiders do.”

“Okay, fine. Keep an eye on it while I get a paper towel to take it outside.”

“You’re going to try to capture it alive?”

“Yes.

“But it’s the size of Mothra!”

“It’s okay, I have spider insurance.”

“Hurry. It’s coming down the wall. No wait, it turned around and it’s going back up. No, it’s coming back down again. It just stopped and looked at me. Wait, it’s coming back down again. It saw me and now it’s coming for me!”

“I don’t need a play- by- play.” “Do you have the paper towel?” “Yes.”

“Is it two- ply? You’ll be safer if it’s two- ply.”

“I have no idea. Go open the door?

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“More spiders might come in.” “No more spiders are coming in.”

“How can you be sure? Maybe this one called for help in spiderspeak.”

“I’m taking it outside. Open the door.”

“Okay fine. But let me get out of the way before you pass me.”

“Oh, I got it. Move!”

“No wait! I haven’t moved out of the way.”

“Oh, shoot.”

“What?”

“I dropped it.”

“YOU DROPPED IT?!?”

“Yeah. Hmm ... it should be here somewhere.”

“I can’t believe you dropped it!” “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to open the door again.”

“Why? So, the spider can leave?” “No. So I can.”