Fifty thousand

That’s the number of baby spiders I saw tonight. Okay, that might be an exaggeration. But I’m getting a little tired of the swarming insect scenarios. During another dinner party, no less. I go to wind up the hose, watching all the time for the giant scary spider I’m sure must be hiding in the hose box. So it takes me a minute to notice the little line of bugs crawling up the spider web next to me. Except they’re not bugs. They’re baby spiders. Crawling out of the very handle I was turning. Thousands of them (again, exaggeration. But it seemed like thousands).

I take a step back and see the little guys everywhere, moving at a frantic pace in every direction. M was kind of enough to point out the ones that had made it halfway across the patio already. Which meant they were all over already by the time we whipped out the nasty spider spray and ushered everyone inside the house.

That’s right. I caved. No eucalyptus oil this time. We sprayed every possible surface. Then we sprayed them all again. I don’t care that I’ll have to go out and wash all those surfaces down before we can play out there again. Because you know what came out of that very handle where its babies hatched? The one that I was turning so carelessly? A big fat black widow. A big fat black widow with all its little tiny black widow babies. Blech. I never thought I’d say this, but I want the ants back.

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