A Morning Delay

Without my glasses, I can see very little. For example, standing up and looking down, I can see that I have feet but not that I have toes. (From a sitting position, I can make out my big toe if I spread it away from the others.)

This morning, as usual, I placed my glasses on the counter and stepped into the shower stall. I turned on the water and noticed something brown moving frantically near my feet. I knew it wasn't a cricket or a cockroach because I could actually see it, and not a gecko because it was definitely brown. I couldn't, however, see it well enough to know what it was. Even though my brain must have registered "spider" as I could tell it was roundish not long (I'd have been more nervous if my brain had registered "snake") and it moved like a spider, I felt much better when I had my glasses on and could actually see it. I'm not generally afraid of spiders; maybe this is why even though I know there are some very poisonous spiders in Australia, I haven't bothered learning what they look like or anything about them. So there's no logical reason why I felt better when I could see what it looked like, but I did.

My next reaction was to go into the bedroom and tell my sleeping husband, "Hey, there's a huge spider in the shower."

He replied, "I know, I saw it last night and took pictures."

Me: What do you think I should do about it?

Him: Coax it into a paper bag and put it outside. (Then he went back to sleep.)

Now, Justin spent far less of his childhood out in nature (and I suspect encountered fewer spiders in his house) than I did, so I don't know why I asked him what to do, or where he got his idea.

After chasing the spider around the shower stall with a bucket, I resorted to Justin's idea. Guess what? The spider went right into the bag, but not deep in, just inside the edge.

Happy ending: I left spider and bag in backyard. When I came home today, spider was gone. Either she ran away or was eaten by a resident lizard. Either way, it's a happy ending for someone.

And I got to shower alone.