Do you ever wonder if spiders just want attention?
Maybe they don’t hang out in our showers because they are spiteful and want to ruin our mornings with a fight to the death over the shampoo. Maybe they just want to spend time with us, but don’t understand how humans do things. They watch how we interact with our pets and our friends and perhaps don’t realise that they can’t just copy and paste the behaviours that work for our cats.
This has happened to me twice.
I would like take the opportunity to point out to all spiders in my readership that this isn’t acceptable behaviour. Opening your eyes in the middle of the night to a spider-face inches from your own is not a fun or cute experience. After the second time I started getting flashbacks whenever I got into bed. If it happens for a third time then I may have to start sleeping hanging from the ceiling from like a bat.
And speaking of the ceiling, spiders, please don’t jump off it onto me. I don’t care what you’ve read, that’s not okay either.
The sensible part of me said not to include that last picture because it is obscure and silly, no one will get it and everyone will probably think I’m weird. The rest of me was still snort-giggling a week after coming up with it and saying: “Silly spider! Ask Louisa Musgrove how well that tactic works.”
Turns out the sensible part of me does not hold enough brain-shares to win a majority vote.
It did manage to push through a caveat in the form of a Venn diagram, though.
I hope that spiders work it out eventually. Perhaps the fiftieth time they are shepherded into jars and dumped in the garden, or when they watch you setting fire to your bed after they disappear somewhere in your bedroom, something will click in their little spider minds.
“Ohhh,” they will think. “I get it now. Boundaries.”
And then maybe if we could communicate with each other we could sort out some kind of truce.