I was innocently filling my coffee maker this morning when I noticed something hanging from the faucet. I thought at first it was a crumb, but it was actually a very small spider, struggling to fight the wave of water to get back up to the faucet.

The point is:

An itsy bitsy spider really did climb up my water spout.

Down came the faucet water and almost washed the spider out.

Off went the faucet and dried up all the “rain”.

And the itsy bitsy spider got hit by a shoe,

Which it really was not expecting in the sink.

If the physical trauma didn’t kill it,

It probably died from being crushed in the tissue

Or drowned in the toilet.

And I can only hope the itsy bitsy spider’s next-of-kin

Warned the rest of the itsy bitsy community

To stay away from my house.

Because I have lots of shoes.

And I’m not afraid to fling them anywhere

Even at the faces of loved ones

If I have to.

The End.

 

I love a good twist ending. I also hate spiders.

But I prefer the itsy-bitsy ones to the ones that are so big, you couldn’t bring them as a carry-on on a commercial airplane because they wouldn’t fit under the seat in front of you.

One time at work, there was a spider the size of a freakishly large watermelon climbing up my wall. “Spider Assassin” is not in my job description. So I did the only sensible thing: I got on the PA system and announced that I needed an adult.

It worked well: A lot of people showed up just to see what the heck was going on.

Let me pause here to say it’s important to use the right tool for a job. Like the old saying goes, “There’s a right way to do things, and then there’s Veronica using a power drill to hammer a can of paint closed.” (True story)

So as me and my newly-formed Spider Crisis Team discussed what to do, I suggested we use the right tool for the job.  Namely: a flame thrower.

But my co-worker was all, “Ha ha. It’s just a little spider. Your shoe will work just fine.”

I have small feet. And this was a big spider.

Despite my objections, my coworker took my shoe and threw it at the spider.

Guess how that ended?

The spider ATE my shoe. That’s how big it was! The spider swallowed my shoe whole, shoved my coworker out of his way, and then ducked under my desk to hide and plot his revenge.

Don’t believe me? I took this picture shortly afterwards so I would have photographic evidence:

one shoe

Why else would I be wearing only one shoe at work if a spider that could bench-press a Harry Potter book hadn’t eaten the other one?

I accept your apology for doubting me.

Nothing like having a spider clearly hopped-up on steroids go sneaking around your office to make you get absolutely no work done because you have to check over your shoulder and on your legs every twelve seconds to make sure it hasn’t returned, and possibly in greater numbers!

Maybe even with a few snakes, just for good measure.

Snakes dressed as clowns.

This spider is that twisted.

We never found that spider. He’s still out there somewhere. And he is angry. He had the sort of face that suggested he held grudges.

So if I go missing, tell the police to look for a really big spider with a shoe lace tangled in his fangs.

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