Dear Any And All Spiders Currently Residing In My Home,
I recently saw one of you crawling along the hallway wall. It was fairly small, and I was feeling generous, so I decided to let it live. Later that afternoon, as I was checking my email and sipping a cup of boiling hot tea, this same spider decided it would be a good time to crawl up my thigh, causing me to spill scalding Earl Grey all over my lap and keyboard.
“THIS WAS NOT THE AGREEMENT!” I yelled at the spider as I knocked it off my leg and smashed it into the tea-stained carpet.
But then I realized that maybe I wasn’t being fair. After all, I had never actually given the spider a copy of the agreement. It’s time we all got on the same page, don’t you think? Here is the standard human/spider cohabitation contract I expect us to abide by:
1. You are welcome to maintain a small, subtle web in the darkest corner of my kitchen ceiling, mostly because I’m short and lazy.
2. Please feel free to help yourself to as many mosquitoes and flies as you like. When it comes to bugs in the house, what’s mine is yours.
3. You know the urban legend about spiders crawling into people’s mouths when they sleep? Please don’t do that. It won’t end well for either of us.
4. That thing where you briefly appear and then disappear into the folds of the curtains, never to be seen again? Not cool.
5. If I try and fail to kill you once (i.e. with the rarely accurate throwing-a-shoe-across-the-room method), consider it a second chance at life — catch a bus to Montana and live in a yurt and write a memoir or something. You might not be so lucky next time.
6. I don’t like strangers in my shower. This applies to you.
7. Biting me while I sleep is creepy and cowardly. If you really want to bite me, wait til I wake up and look me in the damn eye! [Full disclosure: if you look me in the eye and try to bite me, I will kill you.]
8. Please refrain from building large webs across hallways and doorways, especially at my face level.
9. My shoes may look like cozy little spider houses to you, but they are strictly for my feet. Buy your own shoes.
10. Once you surpass three inches in size this contract is null and void, as any and all of my actions will be motivated purely by panic and I cannot be held responsible.
Abiding by these rules will allow us to live together in relative peace and harmony. If you have a problem with any of these standards, please consider taking up residence at my neighbor’s house. Thank you for your cooperation.
[Photo of spider web via Shutterstock]