I was minding my own business, taking a shower, when I hear knocking and Bina singing, “Do you want to build a snow man?”
I reply, “Sure.” I turn the water off and begin to dry while keeping the curtain closed.
I hear her opening the door, followed by more singing, “C’mon, let’s go and play.”
Me, still from behind the curtain, “Can we wait until next winter?”
“I never see you anymo–eeeeek!” Bina screeches. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!”
Unfortunately for her, I’m quite used to her shenanigans. In a bored tone, I ask, “What?”
Panicked, “Spider, spider. There’s a huge spider!”
This is one of those moments when one must clarify terms like “huge.” Because huge isn’t really a valid unit of measurement. What’s huge for one isn’t for another. Remember, eight inches is very different between men and women. 😉
Anyway, I open the curtain and look at this “huge” spider crawling on the wall. It’s a little thing. I keep looking at it while Bina goes for a plastic cup and paper to trap it. Once trapped against the wall in the cup, the poor bugger runs around it in a panic, looking for a way out. While Bina slides an empty envelope under it, I speak to it like it might understand. In a baby voice, I say, “It’s okay, little one. We’re not going to hurt you.”
Here’s where the funny begins.
First, the spider slides out while Bina tries to slide the envelope under it. Insert more screeching and panicked dancing, followed by prayers to the almighty. “Ohmygod! ohmygod!” She runs out of the bathroom and into the hallway like the thing is going to eat her alive. From the hallway, she looks at it, terrified.
Now mind you, I’m still butt naked. I sigh and put the plastic cup over it again, and try to lift it with the envelope. It falls out again. More frightened dancing in the hallway. “This isn’t going to work,” I say, “get me something stronger.” She comes back with a birthday card. That works.
I straightened up and hold the cup/card/spider combo out for Bina to take.
Shaking her head wildly, she says, “I’m not taking that! You do it!”
With a raised eyebrow, I ask, “You want me to take the spider outside? Naked?”
Still wide-eyed and nervous, she replies, “Yes?”
I shake my head and roll my eyes at her. Hesitantly, she takes it. She holds it out as far as her arms can go, like she expects it to blow up at any second. She runs down the hallway, calling for her sister, “T, help me! Open the door!”
Laughing, I get dressed.
PS. For those of you wondering why not just kill it? I only kill two things without mercy: mosquitos and ticks. And since spiders eat mosquitoes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. So eat, little spider, eat, grow, make little spider babies. And kill those fucking mosquitos. All of them. Fuckers.