So I killed two spiders this morning.
This is quite a feat, considering my hatred of squishing bugs.
The first was huge. I mean, huge. And all body too. Wasn't no Daddy Longleg, that is for sure. Biggest spider I've seen in the house ever.
I missed on my first attempt at gently coaxing him off the wall and into the toilet with toilet paper, but I was successful in picking him off the floor and flushing him down the drain. I did a little celebratory dance, proud of myself knowing I'm not reluctant to go find someone else willing to kill the bug.
A few minutes later, I moved my shoe and a small red spider went scurrying off the rug and onto the hardwood. I'm like, "You're no match for me, dude," and took him out confidently with a tissue.
Killing these spiders was really encouraging for me. They made me feel like a true man (besides the expression on my face when I first saw the big one). I also needed a pick-me-up since I felt like a bit of a failure due to a prior moment of weakness. It's like God sent the spiders as easy victories for me to tell me I can still win at life.
It also reminded me of how sometimes if a big battle comes and we hold fast, the second battle usually looks much smaller and we feel more confident that we can win it. It's often just so hard to get past the first battle.
Thankfully, both spiders died today. I pity the next bug that tries to face me today.
No comments:
Post a Comment