I roll out of bed around noon after a night out with my girls. As I start to orient myself, I see something out of the corner of my eye.
No. This can’t be happening.
I immediately go into ‘fight or flight’ mode, and clearly choose the latter. There is no way I’m killing that eight-legged, hairy spider. I leap to the other side of the room, and scream… no one is home. I’m forced to choose fight.
You can do this. Grab the biggest shoe you have.
I inch slowly toward the mega-spider, and lean...