My guide to killing spiders

hkronmueller

In my mind, spring means one thing: Bugs.

And boy, do I hate bugs.

To a certain extent I can handle small bugs like ants, wasps and bees. By "handle," I mean I can kill them with a shoe and leave them there for my boyfriend to scoop up and toss in the toilet.

I cannot deal with spiders.

Ever since the weather took a turn for the warm side a few weeks ago, shoes have started popping up all over my apartment.

When my friend Laurie came down to visit from St. Louis, she asked why there was a shoe in my windowsill.

I told her there had been a wasp flying around the day before and explained my bug ridding system. She just laughed and told me I was nuts.

After that, the only bugs I saw were the ants that have made a home in the pipes in my bathroom sink.

That is, until last weekend.

Sunday night, not even 10 hours after my family left town after a fun-filled Easter weekend, a creature appeared on my bedroom ceiling.

It wasn't a friendly, non-scary creature like a stray ant on a field trip from the bathroom, it was a giant -- and by "giant" I mean about the size of a quarter, legs included -- black spider.

Had the creature appeared earlier in the day my dad could have disposed of it for me, but at 10 p.m., I was alone and panicking.

The following ideas are for arachnophobes, like myself, to try when left alone with a spider:

Idea 1: Smash it with the end of a broom handle.

This is possible, but not recommended for a couple reasons. The first is it requires you to stand directly under the creature and hope your aim is good enough to hit it on the first try. The second is because even if you are lucky enough to hit it on the first try it will let go of the ceiling and fall, possibly onto your head.

Idea 2: Spray it with some bug spray.

This will only work if you have bug spray.

The only bug killer I had Sunday was a box of goo for the ants in the bathroom.

My other problem with this plan is I have 12-foot ceilings and in order for me spray the spider without having the spray, or the spider, fall back on my face is to climb on a ladder, and I don't have one.

Idea 3: Attach a box to the end of the broomstick so there is a flatter area in which to smash the spider and then carefully lower the box down from the ceiling.

This idea has potential. That's why I decided to try it.

After I attached the box to the stick I inched closer to where the creature was resting.

Then, with every brave bone in my body, I thrust the box into the air, smashed it against the ceiling and slowly lowered it down hoping my mission had been successful.

When I pulled the box down I realized it had not worked.

As it scampered across the ceiling I screamed bloody murder, threw the box and jumped under the covers.

Idea 4: Call for reinforcements.

This is the best idea because it requires the least interaction with the creature.

I called my boyfriend and asked him to come over and kill the spider, and being the good boyfriend that he is, he grabbed some friends and came to the rescue.

I could tell by the looks on their faces they thought I was crazy because I was afraid of a "little" spider, as they called it.

But I didn't care. The spider was dead and gone, and that was all that mattered.

When my boyfriend and his friends left, I felt secure knowing the battle had been won, even though the war had not.

My boyfriend is going home to New Jersey this summer, leaving me to fight the bugs as they come. I'm not sure what I'll do then. All I know is I'm going to start investing in industrial-strength bug bombs now.

Heather Kronmueller is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.