January 9, 2009 § 2 Comments
There’s a dead spider next to my kitchen sink.
He’s laying on the little stripe of tile between the sink & the wall so it isn’t like he is on the counter where we prepare food or anything like that. He’s a little wisp of a thing, not in the way, you’d hardly notice if you didn’t know he was there.
I first saw him Monday morning, early, while I was making breakfast. His eight little legs were all curled up around his little sesame-seed body, but when I reached over to dispose of him one little leg jerked out toward me as though he were asking me to wait, telling me he just needed a minute to pull himself together. I left the little guy in peace and went on with my morning routine.*
Tuesday I didn’t throw him away because I couldn’t stand to see the little leg come out again if by some miracle he were still hanging on.
Wednesday I thought it might be funny to wait for the arachnophobic Mr. Man to find the teeny spider body near the kitchen sink. (Maybe that’s a little wicked, but tell me you’ve never hidden behind a door just to jump out & scare the daylights out of somebody. Don’t judge me!)
By Thursday checking on him became part of my morning routine — still there, still dead.
Today I decided to name him Frank.
*By “went on with my morning routine” I mean “forgot about him until Tuesday morning.”