The other morning after my shower I reached over to the tissue box and innocently pulled out a tissue. Sounds like a nice simple everyday task, doesn't it?
Well, from said tissue dropped a critter with many legs. I swore. He stared up at me from the sink, all 8 legs poised for action and all 8 eyes trained on me. I was thinking fast and covered him with an overturned cup, then turned and ran.
The hubster, hearing my swearing, got out of bed. (He's awesome like that. Some people, upon hearing their wife swear, would feign sleep, or run screaming from the room. But not the hubby - he comes to my rescue even if may mean that he ends up being the one who needs rescuing).
But anyway, I left. I politely asked him to dispose of the many legged critter in the sink. I would much rather deal with attempting to raise my almost-teen daughter from bed to get ready for school.
Wait a minute! Who got the better end of this deal anyway?