kiffie

Last night, I was showering.

I look up. There's a daddy longlegs chilling on his web, just above my head. I figure, eh, I won't move him. He's high enough up that he shouldn't get wet, and I wasn't planning on taking a long enough shower for the steam to hurt him. I soap up my brush, then look back up... just in time to see a freaking tarantula sling skitter across the ceiling after the daddy longlegs.

I was out of that shower so quick, you have no idea.

The tarantula is, maybe, the size of a quarter. It looks like it wants some delicious daddy longlegs for dinner. Except daddy longlegs webs aren't nearly sturdy enough to hold a T, even a baby. So it flails all over, trying to get a grip and pull the other arachnid in. By now, I'm getting cold, and annoyed. The little jackass ruined my shower. I hop back in, but stay as far away from him as I can, and keep watch.

The tarantula evidently accepted defeat, because it climbed down off the ceiling, and tried to come into the stall with me... only to realize, too late, that the shower walls are not climbable. I feel there should have been a very tiny "Oh shi--!" as it tumbled into the small crack between the shower and bathroom wall.

I didn't see it again, so I can only assume it found its way back outside where it belongs.

And never tries to get in my house again.

Gah.

...And, for the record, the idiot daddy longlegs needed to be rescued five minutes later. Because they are dumb, and it tried to rappell into my hair.