My hero

Huge. Monstrous. Black. Hairy.
That's the kind of spiders that reside in our "not quite shed"-hallway. You know, the place where you put your washing machine, your extra fridge, dozens of water bottles.
Last Sunday found me home alone (the sweetie was out seducing Hungarians) with Baloo and Stud. Suddenly Baloo tells us there's a spider underneath the lightswitch and that he's scared. I started screaming, even though I hadn't seen the creature. Stud, being the tough macho that he is, asked for a piece of tissue, he'd soon have the thing killed.
With an embarrassed look on his face he came back. He too, was scared. "You can't leave me to it!" I screached. "I'm a poor defenseless non-feminist woman! Kill it!" and I shoved my slipper in Stud's hand. He looked positively sick (I don't know whether it was because of the slipper or the spider) and pretended to try and kill it. "I can't reach it" he mumbled "it's hiding behind the washing machine". I vowed never to go into that place again, whether or not the bin and the downstairs toilet are there. I didn't need that kind of danger!
Monday the sweetie came back home and promptly killed the beast and its even larger sister. Tuesday I was in the loo (satisfied with its safety) when I saw another one of the spider family crawling towards me. I ran (trousers at my ankles) and the sweetie came to my rescue again.

I ask of you, what would I ever do without her?

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