We have this friend. Sort of.
Not really a friend so much as an acquaintance, but we keep running into each other several times a week and it’s awkward because I never really know how to respond.
But last night, it just got a little too personal. For me, anyways.
I was returning home from a friend’s dinner party and was so looking forward to taking my contacts out and hopping straight into bed. I can’t remember what all I was carrying: my purse, maybe a bag from Target and something else. I was trying to get my house key ready when all of a sudden I looked up and realized that Little Friend was there hanging out by the front door.
I use the word little lightly. He’s kind of huge.
And if he wasn’t the size of my eyeball, I would squish him flatter than a silver dollar pancake. I hate spiders. But Larry’s not taking the hints. We keep tearing down his webs, he keeps building them right in front of our door again. I don’t know what else he thinks is going to happen. That’s the definition of insanity, that is: doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome. Or maybe I’m insane for naming him and expecting him to do something different.
A little of this, a little of that.
But if he sets up camp one more time, I will take my shoe off and swing it down at just the right angle to catch him on the sole before slapping it hurricane-force-style against the ground. Take that you, you…monster spider from hell!