Day four of The Great Spider Hatch 2006.
Tuesday morning (day one) I woke up to find the ceiling in the basement covered with hundreds of tiny baby spiders. Spiders, spiders, everywhere spiders.
It's okay. It's fine. It's happened before.
I gaped, slack-jawed at their prodigious numbers. I marvelled briefly at the evolutionary triumph of such large scale breeding. Then I vacuumed the little bastards up and went about my day with the itchy, heebie-jeebies crawling up my back.
Woke up Wednesday morning to the same sight. Again Thursday. And yet again today, albeit in significanly smaller numbers--hardly even a hundred to hoover this morning.
I must admit, it's beginning to feel a little like an arachno-conspiracy is unfolding in my basement. I'm having visions of digitally animated spider generals marshalling their infant troops for yet another doomed onslaught. "Once more into the breech dear spidies...."
Boy cries and whines when he sees one hanging in his path.
Missy nonchalantly pinches them between her fingers, holds them out for inspection, and says, "Ew, ick."
Then she goes looking for another one.