Berserk Button

When it comes to cockroaches in our house, they hit our Berserk Button because we can't abide to think of what they may contaminate with their touch (especially when you have absolutely no idea where they have been). See us brandish rolled-up newspaper and bug spray in search for extermination.

Mice don't really trigger our Berserk Button, even though when you think about it they are terrible pests too: they're dirty, they nibble all over, they leave their droppings everywhere. Perhaps we will end up playing broom golf if ever we bump into one of them in our house.

As for lizards, they may leave the occasional dropping after ransacking our rubbish bag for leftovers, but they scurry away oh so fast. Oh, not to mention we don't fancy dealing with a wriggling tail left behind if we decide to do something to said lizard. And there's the fact that you can already see a lizard's insides, what with a lizard not having the decency to have opaque skin, we were not looking forward to see the insides on the outside.

So tonight, here we were, sitting in front of our desk facing the wall, we turned on the laptop and...

...this great big spider skitters along the wall and stops right in front of our sights.

We spent about 5 minutes just looking at the thing. And yes, even took the time to bloody photograph it. Even went up close and personal, and boy, it had large chelicerae (or fangs or mandibles or whatever thing is related to its mouth) too. The entire thing was huge when compared to the usual wee spiders we come across in our previous house. This kind of spiders we expect to find outdoors, not in our bedroom.

We're not sure where we heard it before that it's the smaller spiders that tend to be the poisonous ones, but hey, small or large, with no knowledge in identifying exactly what kind of spider we were dealing with, we do not cherish waking up the following morning only to be greeted by said spider on our face greeting us good morning.

Only after a while we steeled our nerve and attempted to crush it with a bunch of tissues. And as we moved to the tissue box, the spider sensed our killing intent and scurried behind our rack of boardgames, bags and boxes.

Tissues were no longer an option as we would need to sweep it out. Sticking our hand in would only lead to unfortunate accidents. So we went downstairs to get a newspaper and try to find the bug spray.

We couldn't find the bug spray.

We didn't dare leave the spider alone for too long, as it may scurry into some dark corner and hide till we give up, only to ambush us some days later when we decide to take out a board game or when we stuff clothes into our gym bag. Or if not us, our mum or the cleaner when they go about cleaning the house, or our Wee Wog when she potters about in our room.

Arachnophobia it may be but we weren't going to spend all night thinking of an elegant solution to transport the spider out of our house. Not to mention, we haven't really figured how the bloody thing came into our room in the first place. Open window? Toilet window? Ventilation windows somewhere? Attic?

Some swatting and the spider managed to evade us as we chased it from the corner of the windowsill where it lurked, jumping to our bag straps (boy can it jump!), to skittering about the legs of the rack till it went behind our desk (which was up against the wall).

We really needed that bug spray now. We still couldn't find that bug spray.

Back to our room and we decided we need to shift stuff away and get to that spider before it disappears. Shifted the rack away from the corner, pulled the curtains away to the centre, started shifting boxes from under our desk to out of our room, pulled the table away from against the wall (the table was heavy as we have mountains of books on it, and we weren't keen on scratching the parquet floor).

We jumped more than a couple of times when, for example, the carpet brushed against our leg as we were pulling out a box from under the table.

Oh wait, we think we know where the bug spray is!

Rushed down, found the bug spray, came back up, and started spraying places where we suspected the spider could be. Much to our surprise Shelltox doesn't smell as strong as it used to 15 years ago. Still, we were not going to indescriminately fumigate our room just to try and smoke out a spider we weren't sure would be susceptible to bug spray marketed for killing mosquitoes.

In the end, we found the spider behind our table, fallen to the floor, writhing.

Made us feel like a heel for not being able to give it a quick death, and so we swatted it to end the misery.

Now we wonder just how the fuck does Froggie put up with all the insects and lizards and all manners of creepy crawlies he photographs. Perhaps it's because they're not in his room.