I am proud to say I went toe-to-toe with evil itself and I did not flinch, I did not waiver, I did not scream like a small school girl and run out of the room.
Instead, I steeled my nerves, summoned courage from deep within my soul and slayed the beast that was threatening me.
Yes folks, it's true: I killed a spider like a man.
I was in the kitchen when out of the corner of my eye I saw it.
A grey figure scampering across the countertop. For a brief instant I froze as my mind reeled at the creature before me.
What kind of horror is this? What kind of spawn from hell itself was invading my home?
As I turned to face my nemesis, it stopped and looked at me tauntingly with its beady little eyes, fangs of doom and eight legs of terror.
It was mocking me, daring me to challenge its existence. At that moment time stood still and I knew it was either him, or me.
Suddenly, he started to move and I had to act fast.
I did not have time to grab paper towel in which to encase and smash him. Nor was there a flame thrower, incendiary device or weapons-grade plutonium handy, so I charged forward with the ferocity of a wild beast.
Unleashing my inner cave man, I attacked with unbridled rage and with a bare hand smashed the creature from hell with a single mighty blow, claiming a staggering victory for arachnophobes everywhere.
However, having a smashed spider on my hand really creeped me out so I ran, I mean, casually strolled to the washroom where I rinsed his guts from my skin – a lot.
It is a day that shall go down in infamy. The day I faced my worst fear and won.
Some people might say it was a shallow victory because the spider was just slightly smaller than the flat part of a thumb tack, but hey, it was still a spider and I still killed it with my bare hands so I am counting that as a victory.
It's not that I hate spiders...OK, well actually I do, I do hate spiders.
I hate pretty much all spiders and now is the time of year when they make a reappearance after several serene winter months without them.
I know I will have many encounters of the icky kind before the cold weather returns and I am not looking forward to any of them.
“Spiders are more afraid of you, than you are of them.”
No they're not.
I doubt a spider ever peed a little while running out of the room because a huge Darren fell on him from the ceiling.
“Spiders are harmless.”
I don't care.
And for the record, not all spiders are harmless. The black widow is a nasty piece of work and can harm you.
There are black widows in the area, so some local arachnids are dangerous.
And with international shipping and travel, how do we know the spider I am gently trying to save is not a deadly species accidentally introduced to the region and by catching and releasing it I am actually dooming the area to a spider-filled nightmare.
That innocent little spider I just squashed could have been a baby Goliath tarantula that will grow into a monster with fangs the size of a chihuahua's tail.
Think of the children.
It is a chance I simply refuse to take, so whenever I see a spider of any size, shape and colour I will slay it.
You are welcome.