There is a spider that has been living in or around my desk for the last week. He’s very tiny. I do not think he could make the leap from my desk top, to my neck, which is why he still lives. When he’s on the curtain, I scoot away to the right, however. Just in case.
I have tried, numerous times, to scoop him up and take him outside. He has evaded me, thus far.
His name is Boris. Duh. All spiders are named Boris or Natasha. Thems the rules. I don’t makes them and I don’t breaks them.
Monday my spider sense was tingling. It must have been for it’s the first time I ever recall looking into my coffee mug before dumping my McDonald’s coffee into it — and this time there was a spider in there.
I keep telling myself that if I were drinking spiders on a daily basis I’d certainly have noticed.
Boris did not make it to the great outdoors … only so far as the trash can in the other part of the building. I figure he had a pretty good chance of climbing out though.
I’ve just moved into a new house and have found the odd spider or two. I’ll now have to call them Boris as I’m chasing them around 😉
Do you think spiders ever dream of squishing humans with gigantic 90 feet long shoes?