Smacking Time

Mornings are the worst times, spiders running everywhere, dodging under the furniture, crawling into corners, sliding between the floorboards, hiding for the day, waiting for the nighttime to return when they can come back out and dance their webby little behinds all over the place like they owned the joint, leaving their threads all over the furniture and the thresholds between rooms where I walk right into them and the sticky stuff gets in my face. Euck! Well, things will be different this time. I’m leaving the shades pulled down and the lights off so they don’t know when the sun is up, and this time I’ll chase them around the room with my handy torch and a stiff fly swatter so’s I can smack those webby butts and squish them all. That’s what I’ll do. About time too.

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