Reason #677 Why I Love Andy

Yesterday I opened the shower curtain to the most sinister, evil looking spider I've ever seen. Eeeeek!

Bear in mind that I'm a famous spider-lover and rescuer, having once scraped an entire Charlotte's Web of baby spiders one by one off of my bathroom ceiling, into a cup, to be released outside to live out their spidery lives.

But this one was seriously frightening. It JUMPED at me. It skittered. It was HUGE! It looked like a Brown Recluse. It was too dangerous to try to trap and release. It needed to meet its maker.

So I decided to call in the big guns.

Poor Andy.

He was just as scared as I, but also, absolutely MISERABLE about having to snuff the spider. Every once in a while he busts out his inner Buddhist monk, all respecting all creatures and stuff. He brought in the Spider Spray (couldn't bear to smoosh it), and, practically on the verge of tears, he gingerly and agonizingly coated the jumpy, bristling, leggy bundle of venom, until it was no more.

I attempted to lighten the mood and tease him a little bit, calling him my heroic dragon-slaying knight and whatnot, but he got all imaginatively sympathetic on me, encouraging me to try to think about what it must be like - just going about my business, and then being approached by a titanic creature wielding a suffocating, fatal aerosol can.

So sweet. Poor dear. He's not always the most sympathetic person, particularly with me. But that pointy, poisonous insect passed on with the prayers of my darling, whimsical Andrew to wing him on his way.

I heart him.